


Ancient Ties

by dsa_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Series, Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, due South
Genre: Crossover, Drama, Gen, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-16
Updated: 2002-03-16
Packaged: 2018-11-10 21:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11134857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Takes place a few days after the KFTLC fic Of Reminiscence and Retribution. A series of unsolved murders in Sloanville, Chicago, and Cascade brings the gang back together again, picking up a reluctant historian/liguist along the way.





	Ancient Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Ancient Ties

## Ancient Ties

by Eugenie Chua

Author's website: http://www.tomparisdorm.com/genie/place.html

Disclaimer: Disclaimers: Not mine, not making money outta this, so don't sue. At least not until I take up intellectual property and can find myself a proper defence.   
Now that we've got those out of the way, here's the fic. :)   


Author's Notes: Gods! It's finally done! After more than 2 years, I'm finally posting this thing! The reason it was delayed so long was because 3/4 of the way through the fic, I got stuck for nearly a year. But I managed to find my way out, and now it's here!   
A big thank you to Tors and Jennye for their wonderful beta! The rest of the mistakes are mine though. I know I probably need to have someone else to go through it one last time, but this has been sitting on my HD long enough and I know if I don't get it out now, I'll never will! And Jennye, I can't seem to figure out a way to put in all the stuff you suggested without interrupting the flow of the story, so I'm putting in illustrations instead. :)   
Illustrated version with cover art can be found on my webpage.

Story Notes:   
Note: This takes place days after my Fu fic *Of Reminiscence and Retribution*, and it's a sequel to *Destined For Trouble*, which is part of the Destiny series. It's not really necessary to read the other fic first, but it'll explain how they all got to know each other, and there are some minor details that you might miss if you haven't read the other stories. But like I said, it isn't really essential to the plot or anything.   
Note 2: Highlander fans please note that I'm NOT a fan of MacLeod, and there're a couple of in-jokes in this fic that's told at the expense of him. You might get it if you've seen every ep of the series, the 2 bloopers, and my fic *The Apocalypse*.   
Note 3: NON-dueSouth fans. Like I said, the flow of the story would be interrupted if I attempt to explain everything that's happened in the show. You can read *Destined For Trouble* to get an explanation. But the basic thing is that the Ray Vecchio in this fic is actually Ray Kowalski pretending to be Vecchio while the real Vecchio is undercover. Vecchio has a sister Francesca that works at the police station as well, so Kowalski is pretending that she's his sister as well. Got it? Or have I confused you even more?   


This story is a sequel to: Destined For Trouble 

* * *

Ancient Ties   
A Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, Due South, Sentinel, and Highlander Crossover By Eugenie Chua 

Detective Peter Caine of the 101st Precinct put on a burst of speed and ran after one of his sources, who had split at the sight of him. Finally, he caught up with the man 3 blocks down the road, only to learn that the guy he was after was going to show up at a meeting across the city in five minutes. He had broken every traffic rules mankind ever came up with before getting there in time. 

The rest of the day was spent questioning, not to mention threatening, his latest suspect in order to made him tell who his boss was. In the end he'd resorted to hunting down friend and fellow detective, Detective Griffin, or more commonly known as Kermit thanks to the green sunglasses he wore at all times, to do the job for him. One look from the ex-mercenary, and the suspect sang like a bird. 

Peter spent the other half of the day getting his hands on a search warrant for the boss's house and office and where he found enough evidence to put that man away for a long time. 

Then came the worst part: paper work. The D.A. wanted all the paper work on his desk first thing in the morning, which meant Peter had to work way over time to get it done. And frankly, after the excitement earlier in the day, paper work was just mind numbing. 

Now, finally after all that's done, he was looking forward to getting home, having a nice hot shower and going to bed. 

The detective dumped the stack of files he was working on in the out box and grabbed his coat, heading out of the precinct. 

It had been a hectic day, normal, at least for him, but hectic. 

Walking in the next morning, Peter couldn't hide his wince as Chief Strenlich's, a balding middle-aged ex-Navy seal, voice boomed through the squad room. 

"Caine! Glad you finally decide to show up!" and with that, Strenlich shoved a file at him before Peter could even sit down. "You know, it'll be a change if you'd actually show up on time for once." 

"A body was found in an alley near that Chinese restaurant on 34th Street early this morning. I want you and Skalany on it." He glanced down at Peter. "Now!" he added, seeing his Detective was still casually flipping through the file. 

"Okay, okay!" the Detective in question replied, getting up. "Come on partner," he said to Skalany who immediately abandoned the file she was working on. "We got a killer to catch." 

* * *

A strange sense of deja vu overcame Peter as he approached the body that was lying in the middle of the alley. He shook it off, assuming he'd been down that particular alley, in a similar situation in the past, not giving it another thought. 

"Hey Nicky, what've we got?" asked Peter as soon as he saw the chattering coroner, Nick Elder. 

"Pete, nice to see you! You know, I was thinking..." 

"Nick, " Peter managed to cut his friend off before he could go into the latest details of his upcoming holiday plans instead of focusing on the current situation, as usual. 

"What do we have here?" he asked again. 

"Oh. Yeah. That," said Nick, glancing at the body. "As far as I can tell, he just dropped dead. Literary. No visible wounds, bruises, or any form of physical injury. That's only the preliminary examination. I'd have to run some tests to find out more." 

"That's it?" asked Skalany, who was standing beside Peter. 

"Yeah well, other than that, there's his expression. He kinda looked like he was terrified of something," replied Nick. 

"Thanks Nick," said Peter, giving Nick a pat on the shoulders as he inspected the body personally. The coroner was right, there were no visible physical injuries that he could see. 

"No problem." 

He took a deep breath and reached out with his mind as his father had taught him. There was nothing there except the shadow of the victim's chi and an evil presence that was filled with a darkness more intense than that of the Dark Warrior. And he had a feeling that somewhere, sometime, he had encountered this evil being before, but where? 

"Hey, Pete. Are you done here?" Nick asked. 

"Yeah, sure." 

As Peter stood up, Nick's people began to prepare the body for transportation back to the morgue. 

"Pete, I'll let you know as soon as I find something," Nick said as his people loaded the body into the ambulance. 

"Thanks." Peter replied before turning to Skalany. "Did you find anything?" 

"Nothing except waste papers, rubbish, the usual junk you'd expect to find," the female detective replied. 

* * *

Mary Margaret Skalany had noticed the puzzled expression on her partner's face as soon as they arrived at the crime scene. That expression remained on his face the entire time they were there, and it was still on his face now that they were in Peter's car heading back to the precinct. 

"What's wrong?" she finally asked, unable to stand the mystery. 

"What?" replied Peter, with the most innocent look he could muster. 

"Don't pull that on me Peter," Skalany was getting annoyed at being kept in the dark. "I know you better than you think. Now, tell me what's bothering you." 

"Nothing. What makes you think that something's bothering me?" Peter tried to mask his emotions by concentrating on his driving. 

"Peter..." Skalany said with a warning tone. 

Peter let out a sigh. "I shouldn't have let you date my father." 

"Peter!" 

"Okay! I was just kidding!" Peter said with a smile. 

"You better tell me right this moment or I'll..." 

"Fine, fine," said Peter before Skalany could deliver her threat. "That whole scene back there was somehow...familiar." 

"Familiar? You mean you've seen it before?" This time it was Skalany who was puzzled. 

"No. I'm sure I haven't seen it before. But it was familiar, and there was this presence there, this evil presence that surrounded the body and that was familiar too, though I'm _sure_ I haven't sensed it before." 

"Then how'd you explain all the familiarities?" 

"I don't know." Peter replied with a frown. 

The rest of the trip back to the precinct was spent in silence, each deep in their own thoughts. 

* * *

Just as Peter was climbing out of his car in front of the precinct, a vision hit him. 

_In front of him was a shadow, without a form, just a shadow and it was advancing on him. He thought he saw two ruby red eyes, but he wasn't sure. Someone was yelling something at him, the voice was known to him, but he wasn't sure who it belonged to. He wasn't sure of anything._

"Peter!" Skalany's frantic voice snapped him out of the vision he was trapped in. 

"I'm fine," he managed, trying to make sense out of what he saw. 

"Don't tell me you're fine when you clearly aren't!" she snapped at him. "Now you want to tell me what the heck was that about? No wait, let me guess. It was a vision right?" 

"How do you know?" asked Peter. 

"I've spent enough time with your father to notice such things." She softened her tone in worry, "Are you all right?" 

"Yeah," said Peter, who had managed to regain some composure. 

"So what was that all about?" 

"I do not know," was Peter's reply. 

* * *

The next morning, the phone on Peter's desk rang just as he sat down with a cup of half finished coffee. 

"101st, Caine," Peter answered. 

"Pete," a cheerful voice sounded form the other end. 

"Nick, tell me you've got something!" said Peter. 

"Sorry Pete. I've run every test I could think of and everything came back negative. It was as if...as if his heart just decided to take a break and stopped!" Nick explained. 

"No drugs, nothing?" asked Peter. _Could someone really just literally drop dead?_

"Nothing. I even ran a few tests of my own and all of them came back negative. I've been working on it all night and just can't figure it out! He's a perfectly healthy male in his prime, how could his heart have just stopped for no reason? Though there was an extra high level of adrenaline in his blood stream, which is kinda consistent with that expression on his face. It's almost like he was scared to death or something." 

Peter let out a sigh, "Thanks Nick." 

"Sorry about it that. I'll let you know if I find anything useful." 

"Thanks," replied Peter and hung up. 

"I assume that was Nick," said Skalany who had wheeled over in her office chair and park herself beside her partner's desk once she realized it was Nick on the phone. "Did he find anything?" 

"That guy just died," Peter answered simply. 

"I know that. But _how_?" Skalany asked. 

"That's it. He just died. For no apparent reason at all." 

"How is that possible?" Skalany asked, confused. 

"Beats me." 

"Caine, Skalany!" Strenlich called out from his office door. "54th Street, another body. The uniforms are already there." 

* * *

They arrived at the scene within five minutes and, as the chief had said, the uniforms were already at the narrow back alley, handling crowd control. 

"Hey, Kelley!" Peter called out as soon as he spotted the young blonde officer who was in charged. 

Kelley O'Brian had contributed some crucial facts a few weeks ago to help Peter, Jody, Kermit and Skalany figure out what was wrong with their friend Detective Thomas Jefferson Kincaid a.k.a T.J., who at that time had been tormented by 'nightmares'. Using the information he supplied, they had managed to figure out how to help T.J. 

"Peter, Mary Margaret," Kelley replied as he saw them approaching. 

"What do we have here?" asked Skalany, indicating the body at the edge of the alley. 

"A white male, in his early to mid thirties I assume. No I.D. No signs of a struggle and as far as I could tell without tampering with it, no visible physical injuries either other than that terrified look on his face," O' Brian reported. 

"Another one?" Skalany asked her partner. 

"Maybe." 

"You mean this isn't the first case?" O'Brian asked as he eyed the two detectives. 

"Can't be sure at this moment, but a similar case was handed to us yesterday. Coroner couldn't find anything wrong with the guy. Perfectly healthy," supplied Skalany while she watched Peter. The look of puzzlement was once again on his face as soon as he came in sight of the body. It became more intense as he bent down and examined the body. _Must be his Shaolin skills._

As she observed her partner, Peter's expression changed from intense puzzlement to confusion. Afraid that he might get lost in his own world, she quickly went over his side and snapped him out of whatever reality he was in. 

"What was that about?" she asked. 

Peter shook his head as if to clear his mind. "That feeling I told you about yesterday. It's here too." He looked up at Skalany from his kneeling position and Skalany did not like what she saw in Peter's eyes. He was very serious. 

* * *

The witness that they had interviewed the previous day yielded nothing. Nick's phone call had only confirmed Peter's suspicion that it probably was the same person that had killed the second victim as well. 

Peter and Skalany were not surprised when a third case was called in and, as they had expected, nothing was to be found at the crime scene. No clues whatsoever on who might have done this except for Peter's recurring visions about the overwhelming presence of the formless shadow and familiar voices. 

And the pressure wasn't getting any lighter seeing as they now officially had a serial killer on their hands. 

Peter spent another fruitless day trying to find any clue that might help them solve the case, but as he had suspected all along, there were none. By the end of the day he was tired and frustrated. 

Peter sensed a presence in his apartment as he opened the door, making him paused for a moment before recognizing the Ancient, Lo Si, sitting on his couch, waiting for him. 

"Lo Si? What are you doing here?" Peter asked, genuinely confused by the presence of the old man. 

"I sensed that you are in need of help, young Caine," said the petite Asian, looking at Peter through his wire-rimmed glasses. 

"How did..." Peter began but managed to stop himself. "I don't even know why am I asking this question any more. You'd think I'd know better since completing the training, but I still have to ask." 

The older man just looked at him as he rambled. "Are you finished?" he asked as soon as Peter stopped talking. 

"Yeah. Sorry," 

"There is no need to apologize. Now, do you want to tell me what is bothering you, or do you want to let an old man find out himself?" asked Lo Si. 

Peter walked about his living room, collecting his thoughts and then finally settled himself on the couch. 

"I've been having these...these visions of sort, there this huge featureless shadow with red eyes coming after me. There were some voices, two I think, that kept calling to me, but I have no idea what they were talking about. And that shadow just kept coming at me," explained Peter. 

"The voices, do you know who they belong to?" asked Lo Si, seemingly interested in what Peter had said. 

"I know I know them, but I can't seemed to place them," replied the younger man. 

The Ancient seemed to be thinking about what Peter had told him. "There was a legend," he began a few moments later. "That many thousand years ago in a far away land, there lived a powerful sorcerer. He had three young apprentice with him, two of them were brothers and the other was an orphan of war. He saw great potential in all three of them and knew that one day, they would be great sorcerers. He was not worried that they might use their skills to do evil as Each had a great need to help people and the essence of goodness was strong within them; the sorcerer knew that their skills would be used to bring light to the land. But, as with most young men with power, trouble tended to seek them out ," Lo Si paused at this point looking at Peter, his eyes filled with laughter. 

"Come on Lo Si. Give me a break!" Peter said with a smile. "What has this story gotta do with me anyway?" 

"Patience young one. Soon you will know." 

"Okay, so what happened to them?" 

"Ah. As I said, they did not seek trouble, but trouble sought them out. One day, a villager accidentally released an evil force that the sorcerer had imprisoned years ago. 

That evil being came in the shape of a formless shadow with red eyes and could kill without leaving a trace. At the time, the sorcerer was very old, and weak with sickness, and could not possibly face the evil being. So the responsibility of recapturing the evil force was in the hands of the three apprentices. By that time, the sorcerer had already taught them what he could and it was up to them to make use of their skills." 

"You mean they graduated and became sorcerers?" asked Peter, who was now able to see why Lo Si was telling him the story. The evil force that he saw in his visions was indeed similar to that in the story. 

"No. Even though they had the knowledge, they still lacked the experience that a sorcerer has. The sorcerer was reluctant to send the three of them, but he had no choice. It was said that the three of them engaged the evil force in battle and managed to stop it, but no one ever heard from the three young men again and no one knew what happened to them." Lo Si concluded his tale. 

"Are you saying that this evil force is back?" asked Peter. 

"I did not say that. _You_ said it," replied the older man. 

"Come on Lo Si! People are dying here! And....and like you said in the story, there was no trail! There must be something that can be done to stop whoever or whatever's doing this!" 

"If the evil force is back, the knowledge to stop it lies within the three apprentice." 

"And how am I supposed to know where are they? Not to mention _who_ are they?" asked Peter impatiently. 

"You will know. In time you will know," said the older man as stood up and left Peter's apartment, leaving an even more confused Peter in his wake. "In time, you will know everything, young Caine." But the last sentence was spoken only to himself. 

* * *

Peter was puzzled by what the Ancient told him. _How am I supposed to know what to do? And it is only a legend right?_ He was begin to doubt the story Lo Si told him was merely a legend as the description of the shadow was too similar to that in his vision to be a coincidence. How is that possible if it was only a legend? 

With that thought in mind, Peter drove to his father, Kwai Chang Caine's place. It had been nearly two months since his father's disappearance and Peter was really worried about him, not to mention angry that he had once again left without saying a word. Even though such disappearing acts were getting to be a habit of the elder Caine, it didn't mean that Peter had to like it. 

The presence of his father surrounded Peter as he walked into the apartment. He lit a few candles, which gave him a sense of peace that allowed him to slip into a meditative state easily. 

He was having the vision again. The formless shadow was looming over him. Familiar voices were shouting at him but he could not make any sense of what they were saying. Suddenly, there was a bright light and the shadow turned its attention away from him. Just as Peter thought he could catch a glimpse of the people who had been shouting at him, he was hurled back into reality. 

Peter opened his eyes and realized that he was still at his father's place. _Damn. I was so close!_

Checking his watch and seeing that it was too late, or rather too early, for him to make his way back to his place, he decided to spend the rest of the night at his father's place. Lying on the futon bed that was normally his father's, sleep quickly claimed him. 

* * *

The next day, just as Peter and Skalany suspected, another body showed up. There didn't seem to be a pattern to all these murders. 

The victims, it seemed, were being randomly chosen from the street and had nothing in common other than the way they all died with a terrified expression on their face. Mental wheels begin to turn in Skalany's head as she looked at the victim. Her mind began to connect the dots and she realised that there the victims _did_ have something in common; they all had a terrified expression on their faces. 

Peter knew that they wouldn't find anything at the crime scene but he didn't expect there to be a witness to their latest murder; a homeless lady that went by the name of Lady Luck. 

"Wait a minute. Could you repeat what you just said?" Skalany, who was interviewing the witness, asked, shocked. 

"I said, I saw a shadow covering up the man. And when it went away, the man just fell. I thought that it might come after me, so I ran," Lady Luck repeated what she had just told Skalany a moment ago. 

"You saw a shadow covering up the man?" 

"Yeah. That's what I just said!" Lady Luck seemed annoyed at having to repeat her statements. 

"A _shadow_?" Skalany asked again, disbelieved. 

"Shadow? What shadow?" asked Peter as he approached his partner. 

"This lady here claims that she saw a shadow attacking the victim," supplied Skalany, indicating the woman with a nod. 

"With big red eyes too!" Lady Luck added. 

"Big red eyes?" Skalany would have burst out laughing if not for the serious expression on Peter's face. "Come on Peter. Don't tell me you believe that?!" 

Peter merely looked at Skalany, troubled, but did not answer her question. Skalany went after him as he walked away after thanking Lady Luck for her information. 

"Come on Peter! I mean this is ridiculous! Even the Shadow Assassin did not have red eyes. Not to mention it had the form of a man!" she exclaimed as soon as she caught up with him. 

"If you believed in the Shadow Assassin, why not this?" Peter retorted, turning to face his partner. 

"A _formless_ shadow?" 

"What if I tell you that there's such a thing as a formless shadow?" 

"What do you mean by that?" Skalany eyed her partner suspiciously. 

"Remember that vision I had after the first victim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I never really did tell you what was it about," said Peter. 

"You told me you didn't know what it was about. Did you figure it out?" asked Skalany. 

"No, I haven't really figured it out yet." 

"So what are you telling me here?" Skalany was getting impatient. 

"I saw the shadow." 

" _What?!?_ " She nearly yelled, making Peter jumped at the sudden outburst. 

"I saw the shadow that the lady described. Formless, red eyes and that came after me. After each crime scene, the same vision would come to me. I don't know why, but I know that there's such thing as this formless shadow." 

"So how the heck are we supposed to catch a shadow?" Skalany finally asked after a moment of silence. 

"Well, I'm still trying to figure out that part myself." 

* * *

Two weeks and a dozen deaths later, the killings stopped as sudden as they began, with no apparent reason. The file on Peter's desk was being filed under unsolved. Everyone assumed that it was over, but Peter knew better. The vision still came to him, though not as frequent as during the case. But they were still there. 

* * *

Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski, or Ray Vecchio as he'd been known for the past year, was bored out of his mind. For once in his life, his desk was clear of new cases and unfinished paperwork. His unofficial partner, Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, had his own duties to perform at the Canadian Consulate in Chicago and was not here with his deaf, lip-reading, sweet toothed, donut robbing wolf, Diefenbaker, to bug him. 

So here he was at his desk, reading the sports section for the tenth time and there was no sign of a new case coming his way. The rest of the squad room was as busy as ever. Officers yelling at criminals, criminals yelling at officers, lawyers yelling at everyone and his "sister" Francesca Vecchio yelling into the phone. It seemed that he was the only one without anything better to do. 

He glanced at his watch. 11:30. _Might as well have an early lunch._ With that thought in mind, Ray got up, grabbed his coat and headed out. 

An hour later, he was walking back to his car from the Chinese restaurant when he noticed something odd about a dumpster not far away. Curiosity got the better part of him and he went to investigate. What was odd about it was the pair of booted feet sticking out the top of it. 

"Last time I checked, dumpsters don't have feet." He muttered to himself as he took a peek over the edge of the empty bin. 

The pair of feet belonged to a very dead man with a terrified expression on his face 

"Oh great! I just _have_ to stumble across a dead guy right after lunch! I can't just get into my car and drive away. " He threw his hands up in the air in annoyance. "Noo...I had to see what was wrong..." Ray grumbled all the way back to his car as he went to report what he had found. 

* * *

Lieutenant Harding Welsh naturally assigned the case to Ray since he was the one who found the body and had nothing better to do. Forensics had found nothing at the crime scene and he had to wait until the next morning before the autopsy report was ready. Fraser had even been to the crime scene later that day with him, but the constable, too, had been unable to find any clue. 

"Nothing? Whaddaya mean nothing?" Ray asked. 

"Exactly what I meant Ray. There is nothing here," Fraser explained patiently. 

"You mean the guy just decided that the dumpster was the best place to die and he climbed into it?" 

"Well," Fraser cocked his head. "Judging by the expression on his face before he died, I doubt that he had wanted to die in the dumpster, not to mention that..." 

"I know what you're saying," Ray cut Fraser off before he could go on. 

They had spent an hour at the crime scene and all Fraser had managed to find out was that the victim had retreated towards the dumpster, climbing up a stack of wooden boxes beside it, and had fallen into it by accident before he died. 

Ray decided to call it a day after driving his partner back to the consulate, but, just as he was getting out of his car, he thought he saw a shadow in front of him. He shook his head to clear his mind and the image was gone. 

"I must be more stressed out than I thought." He muttered to himself as he walked towards his apartment, dismissing what he saw as a by-product of his over imaginative mind. 

* * *

The morning started as usual for Ray. But as soon as he got to the station, he knew that it was going to be a long day. The autopsy report was on his desk when he arrived. He read through it and found that the victim had died for no obvious reason other than his heart decided to stop. Though indications such as the abnormally high level of adrenaline in his blood suggested he was terrified during his last moments but other than that, he was perfectly healthy. 

*Now,* Ray thought, _we just need to find out what scared him to death and case closed. If only it was that easy._

"How can there be nothing?" 

"What nothing?" asked Francesca as she walked past his desk. 

"Huh?" Ray hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. "Nothing. Just thinking out loud. Whaddaya want?" 

"This just came in for you," said Francesca as she handed him a file. 

Ray groaned as he read the content in the file. Apparently, another body had been found early this morning, forensics had gone over the place with a toothbrush and could not find a single shed of evidence. Just like the body he'd discovered the previous day. 

"What is it?" Francesca could not help but ask. 

"Another stiff," answered Ray as he got up and grabbed his coat. 

* * *

_What's with criminals and alleys anyway?_ Ray thought as he arrived at he latest crime scene. A police line had been set up, surrounding the crime scene and the only evidence that suggested a person had died here recently was a fresh chalk out line of the body on the floor. 

A strange sense of familiarity overcame him as he got near the scene. He was trying to figure out what was so familiar with the place when Fraser walked up behind him. 

"Ray?" 

"Fraser!" Ray was startled by the uniformed Mounties's appearance. "Don't ever do that again!" 

"Do what?" asked Frase, confused. 

"Walk up on me like that! You nearly scared the shit outta me!" 

"Sorry," the Mountie apologized. "I didn't mean to startle you." 

"Apology accepted. So what are you doing here anyway? I thought you weren't available today?" 

"I managed to finished my duties at the consulate earlier than I had envisaged and the Inspector let me have the rest of the day off. So I went by the station to see if you need any help and Francesca informed me that you were here," explained Fraser. 

"The Ice Queen let you have the day off?!?!" Ray asked, not believing that fact that Fraser's superior had let him off early. 

"Yes, She did. Why are you so surprised?" 

"Never mind," Ray dismissed the topic with a wave of his hands and returned his attention back to the crime scene. "Forensics couldn't find anything here either." 

Ray took a moment to look around, trying to pin down anything that looked familiar to him. "Do you notice anything familiar around here?" he asked. 

"No. Why?" 

"I don't know. It's like I've been here before, 'cept, I know I haven't," replied Ray, sounding a little confused. 

"Ray, how is that possible? If this place seemed familiar to you, you must have, in the past, been here before. If not, why would it be familiar? Though people that suffer from psychological disorders such as epilepsy and schizophrenia...." 

"Fraser," 

"...often report cases where..." 

"Fraser," 

"...they experience the feeling of deja vu..." 

"Fraser!" 

"Yes, Ray?" Fraser finally answered. 

"I don't have a psy...ah...psychi..." 

"Psychological?" Fraser suggested. 

"Yeah, psychological. I don't have a psychological disorder." 

"Then how would you explain...." 

"Fraser, I repeat. I. Am. Not. Crazy." Ray punctuated each of his with a poke to Fraser's chest to get his point across. 

"Understood," Fraser nodded. 

"Good. Now that you've finish wondering if I'm nuts, could we please get back to the problem at hand? How can somebody kill someone without leaving a trail?" 

Fraser walked about the crime scene, Diefenbaker trotting along beside him, and looked for clues that the forensics might have missed. But he, too, found nothing. Not even a footprint. 

"Hmm...," Fraser finally said after he had thoroughly gone over the place. 

"What?" Ray hated it when Fraser did that. 

"Most curious," Fraser seemed to be ignoring Ray's question. 

"What?!" Ray was getting impatient with the Mountie. 

"It's highly unlikely that a criminal would leave no trail whatsoever." 

"But...?" prompted Ray. 

"But this is exactly what's happened here." 

"So, this is just like yesterday?" Ray asked. 

"Not exactly," replied Fraser. 

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" 

"Yesterday, I managed to find some trace of evidence on how the victim had ended up in the dumpster. But now, the only conclusion we can draw from this is the man walked to this point and collapsed," explained Fraser. 

"You mean he just dropped dead?" 

"That's a crude way to put it, but basically, yes," agreed Fraser. 

"How's that possible?" Ray was getting really confused and frustrated at this point. _How could a perfectly healthy man in his prime just drop dead on the streets?_

"I don't know. As a matter of fact, the only reason that we know the victims did not die of natural causes is because of the terrified look on their faces. The fear they felt at their last moment...." 

"Fraser." 

"...The terrifying death that they were facing..." 

"Fraser." 

"...The..." 

"Fraser!" 

"Yes?" Fraser finally answered. 

"That's the second time I had do that to you," 

"Do what?" asked Fraser with a puzzled expression. 

"Repeating your name at least three times before you answer! You know, this is like a... a... a role reversal, and they say you have the hearing of a bat," Ray said with a smile on his face. "Anyway, we're done here right?" 

"I believe so, yes." 

They spent the rest of the day interviewing potential witnesses, but no one had seen or even heard a thing. 

By the end of the day, Ray was tired, frustrated and hungry. Not to mention ready to lash out at any unfortunate soul that happened to cross his path. He couldn't help but wonder how Fraser could manage to maintain his spotlessly fresh looks. 

* * *

The shadow he'd thought he'd seen was in his dream, moving away from him to another person he couldn't see clearly. 

He heard voices yelling, one of them his, but could not make sense out of them. Then there was a beeping sound. 

Wait. The beeps were not part of the dream, but the alarm clock. 

Ray Kowalski opened his eyes and groaned. It was seven thirty in the morning. Time to get up and go to work. But he felt as if he had just got into bed. He vaguely remembered bits and pieces of his dream, but the shadow was the strongest memory. Shaking his head in an attempt to dispel the last vestiges of his dream he got up to prepare himself for the day. 

"Ray, you look like hell," commented Francesca as soon as Ray walked into the squad room. 

"Yeah, and good mornin' to ya too, Frannie," Ray grumbled as he walked past his 'sister'. 

"Cut the sarcasm. This came in for you," Francesca handed him a file which Ray grabbed as he continued towards his desk. 

"Thank you Francesca. You're welcome Ray, no problem at all," Francesca threw at him as she watched him walk away. 

"Great. This is just _great_!" Ray muttered under his breath as he leafed through the file. 

"They see me first thing in the morning, they say I look like hell, then hand me a dead guy. Gee...what a _wonderful_ way to start a day." 

Ray had just sat down when the Lieutenant's voice boomed through the squad room. 

"Vecchio! My office!" 

"Now, what?!" grumbled Ray as he got up and headed to Welsh's office. 

"Do you have any leads on the case?" Welsh got straight to the point as soon as Ray was in his office, and since Ray was only working on one case, he didn't need to point out which case he was referring to. 

"Ah...No, sir," replied the detective. 

"Well, you better do, and soon. We have a serial killer here and I just had a long and wonderful chat with the Commissioner this morning and he wants this solved ASAP. You got it?" 

"Yes, sir. Right on it." 

"One more thing. Big Red's gonna be working with you full time on this. I assume that the Inspector also had a long talk with the Commissioner before agreeing to it," Welsh added with a smile. 

"Sure. I'll get right on it." 

With that Ray left the Lieutenant's office and went back to his desk in time to see Fraser arriving with Diefenbaker beside him. 

"Good morning, Ray," greeted Fraser. 

"Mornin'," Ray replied. "Ya know, I never understood how the word good and morning could ever be joined. How can morning be good?" 

"You see, Ray. Good morning is...." started Fraser. 

"Fraser, it was a...ah...one of those questions, a..." Ray stuttered, trying to find the right phrase. 

"Rhetorical question?" Fraser supplied. 

"Yeah. Right. It was a rhetorical question." 

"Understood," the Mountie nodded. 

The rest of the morning was spent looking through the crime scene photos and working through the file to see if there were any similarities between the victims. When both of them found nothing, Fraser suggested that they might want to look at the bodies even though Doctor Mort Gustafson, the coroner, had said that he found no trace of toxic or other life threatening drugs in their system. 

Ray was reluctant to go down to the morgue but had no choice since they had run out of options. 

"Damn. Why does it have to be me?" Ray muttered as he followed Fraser to the morgue. 

"I've never understood why you hate dead bodies. They can't do anything to harm you," said Fraser. 

"I just can't stand'em. All stiffed up, pale and lifeless. I mean, they're like alive one moment, then someone put a bullet or stuck a knife in them and the next moment, they're dead. I guess I just don't get it," Ray said. 

"Get what?" 

"I just don't understand how one human being could do that to another human being. Killing another person without a second thought. Maybe I just don't want to face the reality of it, maybe I'm just nuts, I don't know. Geez! Why am I telling' you all these stuff? Am I even making any sense here?" 

"I think you do Ray," 

"Fraser, I could never understand why you seemed so...so at ease with them. Looking at their face, fingers, flippin' them all over the place. It just give me the creeps to think that this was a living, breathing person just a few days ago and now they're lying there with you doing all those stuff to them," Ray shuddered. 

As usual, the Polish medical examiner was singing some opera piece in the morgue. Ray paled as soon as he saw what Mort was doing. 

"Ah, Constable, Detective," greeted Mort as soon as they entered. "How may I help you?" Mort had stopped singing and dissecting the body on the table at this point. 

"Yeah," replied Ray with his back facing the half cut body, trying not to look at that direction and talk to Mort at the same time. "We need to know more about the murders." 

"Didn't I have the report delivered to you desk already, Detective?" 

"Yes, indeed you did," said Fraser. "But there was nothing conclusive in the reports." 

"But there is nothing conclusive that I can say about them." 

"Yeah, 'cept the fact that they're dead," said Ray. 

"Now that, my friend, even _you_ could have worked out," the old man said with an almost affectionate smile. "But Constable, if you care to join me, I'm performing the autopsy on the latest one. Maybe you could find something that I might have missed." 

"Thank you kindly," said Fraser as he put on a pair of gloves and joined Mort at the table while the coroner started his singing again. 

Ray had no choice but to pull a chair over and sit down, his back facing the duo as they examined the body in _great_ detail. 

Ray grimaced as he heard some squashing and squishing noises behind him. _I don't even want to think what they're doing back there!_

"Hmm..." said Fraser after almost twenty minutes of looking at the internal organs of the body. 

"What?" asked Ray. 

"I think I might have found something," said Fraser. 

"What?!" Ray asked again, this time more impatient. 

"It seemed that the heart muscle was having quite an exercise before it stopped. I think this person was nearly scared to death," Fraser explained. 

"Yes, I see what you are talking about," said Mort. "Why hadn't I noticed that before?" 

"Nearly? What do you mean nearly? Did he, or did he not, get scared to death? How can there be someone who was _nearly_ scared to death and ended up dead?" inquired Ray. 

"You see, Ray, when a person is scared to death, his heart rate would increase until the point where he'd go into cardiac arrest and die because of the irregular heart beat. From what I can see, his heart just suddenly stopped for no apparent reason at all. Something killed him before his body could go into cardiac arrest." 

"And like the other two, he has an abnormally high level of adrenaline in his blood stream," Mort added. 

"Meaning that whatever killed him scared the shit out of him, right?" Ray concluded. 

"Yes," said Fraser. 

"So, now the only thing we have to do is find out what was so terrifying it could nearly scare them to death, then we'd have our killer," Ray continued. 

"That may not be as easy as it sounds, but it's the only thing we've got at the moment," said Fraser. 

"As if I don't know that. Now, are we done here?" Ray couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. 

"Of course. And thank you kindly Doctor." 

Leaving Mort alone with his 'friends', Ray shuddered as he took a last peek at Mort, seeing him cleaning the nails of a body and singing to it. 

_Why would someone sing to dead guys anyway?_ Ray couldn't help but think as he got back to his desk. _Maybe he couldn't sing in front of live ones?_

"Hmm..." _Did I just say 'hmm..'?_ Ray groaned, catching himself. 

"What's wrong?" asked his partner. 

"I can't believe I just said that! I just said 'hmm'! You know what Frase? I've been hanging around you, Turnbull and the Ice Queen for too long, _That's_ what's wrong!" With that comment, he buried his head in the pile of files that was beginning to pile up at his desk. 

* * *

Ray suddenly sat straight up in his chair, eyes staring, but not really seeing what was in front of him. All he could see was a formless shadow in front of him chasing another person that he could not make out. 

Voices were yelling. _He_ was yelling, but he didn't really understand what he was saying. Suddenly there was a flash of white light and the shadow turned to face him with its glowing ruby red eyes. 

"Ray?" Fraser called, and when his partner did not answer, he tried again. "Ray, Ray, Ray..." Repeating himself until he finally got a response. 

"Huh?" Ray seemed confused. 

"Are you all right?" 

"I'm fine. I'm perfectly all right," but the detective still seemed a bit distracted. "What?" he asked when Fraser gave him a skeptical look. 

"No, Ray. You are _not_ all right." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"I waved my hands in front of you a few minutes ago and you didn't even flinch. Obviously there's something wrong," said Fraser. 

"Just back off okay? I'm fine and there's nothin' wrong with me. So just drop it." 

"You know son," a voice sounded from behind him, and without even looking, Fraser knew that it was his father's ghost. "You have to respect his privacy. If he doesn't want to tell you something, don't push. Wait till he's ready." 

"But it seems to be affecting him a great deal," he said to his father 

"Look Fraser, I said drop it, okay?!" As usual, the people around him always mistook his comments to his father to be directed at them, which often complicate things. 

"He's right, son. Drop it. He'll tell you when he's ready," Bob Fraser advised. 

Fraser let out a sigh. "All right." His reply was directed to both his father and partner. He would back off, for the moment. 

* * *

*Everything is fine. I'm not seeing things, I'm not seeing things, I'm not seeing things...*Ray repeated the line over and over again in his mind as he tried fruitlessly to concentrate on the case. _It was just the stupid dream I had last night. Just a dream. I'm not crazy._

Ray knew that he was doing a lousy job of trying to convince himself that he was not crazy, but why the heck was he hallucinating if he was sane? _They'd lock me up in the room with rubber furniture and throw away the keys if they ever find out about this._

* * *

Fraser was worried about Ray. His partner seemed to be deeply troubled by something and had not spoken a word to him since the episode in the squad room. 

Fraser suspected that Ray was seeing something no one else could see, in other words, he might be hallucinating. Was Ray suffering from a mental disorder he had not told him about? Or was it the stress from the job that was causing it? The latter seemed more likely since Ray had not shown any signs that he was suffering from a psychological disorder. 

_I'm going to find out what's wrong with him._ Fraser told himself as he went to bed. 

* * *

A fourth body was discovered the next day and, like the others, there was no clue as to who might've done it. 

Ray was getting more and more frustrated with the case and the fact that the dream had kept him away from a restful sleep did not help either. 

He was just getting out of the car with Fraser, heading towards the station when the images assaulted him. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes not seeing what was in front of him, but what his mind was showing him; ears not hearing what was around him, but what his mind wanted him to hear. 

The sight of the formless shadow sent a chill down his back. Voices, his own crying out in a tongue that he did not understood yet was oddly familiar with. 

The shadow was moving away. 

Then, a bright light that seemed to come from nowhere struck the shadow, causing it to flitter out for a moment before turning its attention towards him. Red eyes glowed. Coming after him. 

Ray's attention snapped back to reality as he felt someone shaking him and calling his name. 

"Ray? Are you all right?" Fraser stared at him, concerned. 

Ray let out a sigh. "I dunno, Frase. I really don't." 

"You know you can tell me about it," 

"Maybe later. When I've sorted things out for myself." 

Fraser nodded and they both continued on their way to the squad room, with Fraser keeping a very close eye on Ray. 

* * *

Ray knew that he could not avoid the Mountie forever. So he had invited him to his apartment that evening, trying to work out a way to tell his partner about the things he saw when he was both asleep and awake. 

"Ray," Fraser started. "You haven't been yourself lately." 

Ray let out a bitter laugh. "Since when did you know me that I was myself?" he asked. He wasn't himself as soon as he had accepted this undercover assignment. 

"You know I didn't mean it that way," Fraser's voice was almost a whisper. 

"Yeah. I shouldn't've twisted your words," Ray admitted. 

"What's wrong?" 

There was a long moment of silence as Ray just stood there staring out of the window, but not really seeing anything. 

"I don't know how to say this without sounding like I'm crazy, but I've been seeing things," Ray finally said. 

"Seeing things? You mean like hallucinations?" Fraser prompted. 

"No. Yes. I don't know!" Ray threw up his hands in frustration. "Fraser, do people hallucinate when they sleep?" ask Ray. 

"No. At least none that I've heard of," Fraser replied. 

"That's the problem Frase. I don't think I'm hallucinating 'cause I see the same thing in my dreams," Ray paused at this point. "Do you think I'm crazy?" The question was asked so softly that Fraser nearly missed it. 

"No. I don't think that you're crazy." 

"Why don't you think so? I mean, I'm showing all the signs and all," asked Ray. 

"This afternoon when we were heading back to the station from the car park--" 

"Yeah. I was seeing another episode of 'Shadow Man.'" 

"Do you realize that you said something then?" 

"No. What did I said?" Ray hadn't known that he was even capable of saying anything when he was in that state. 

"I didn't really understand everything, but it very roughly translates to 'may the light of humanity drive the force of evil away.'" 

"I said that?" Ray was puzzled. 

"Yes. In an ancient Celtic dialect that I wasn't aware you were fluent in," said Fraser, his expression one of total puzzlement. 

"I spoke Celt? That's impossible!" 

Ray was gesturing frantically at this point. "How the hell am I supposed to speak Celt when I haven't even heard it before in my life? It must be a mistake!" 

"I don't think so Ray," Fraser replied calmly. 

Another silence. 

"So, am I crazy or not?" Ray finally asked. 

"No. I don't believe so." 

"Then explain why I'm seeing this formless shadow with bright red eyes that's chasing after me? 'Cause I sure as hell don't know what's happening here!" 

"Ray, could you tell me what's been going on?" Fraser requested. 

So Stanley Raymond Kowalski spilled his guts to his partner. 

"Ray," said Fraser after Ray had finished describing the images he saw. "I believe what you've been seeing is a vision." 

"A vision?!" _This is getting stranger by the moment._

"Yes, a vision. And if I'm not mistaken, it's a vision from the past since you spoke Celt," Fraser explained. 

"Wait a minute, aren't visions supposed to be like yer seein' the future kinda thing?" Ray asked. 

"Not really Ray. These images may be from the past, but it might be warning you about something that is _going_ to happen in the future," Fraser explained. 

"Okay. But if it's a vision, what the heck is it supposed to mean?" 

"That, Ray, I don't know." 

Fraser might not know, but Ray had a strong feeling that it was linked to the murders he was investigating. It was no coincidence that he first saw the shadow when the first body showed up. 

_That's gotta be it._

* * *

Another two and a half weeks and more dead bodies later, the murders suddenly stopped. 

Ray was glad that they finally had since it meant no more innocent people dying, no more complaints from the Commissioner and most importantly, no more looking at dead bodies for a while. 

He regretted that he'd not managed to catch whoever or whatever was doing it, but, somehow, he knew that this wasn't the end of the case. As a matter of fact, he had a feeling that it was only the beginning of something big. 

* * *

"Ellison, Sandburg! My office, now!" 

Detective Jim Ellison winced as Captain Simon Bank's voice boomed through the bullpen, his sensitive hearing making the captain's voice louder for him than the other people. 

"Sorry," the black Captain apologized as Jim and his partner, Blair Sandburg grad student and police observer walked into his office. 

"What is it, sir?" Jim asked as soon as he sat down. 

"This just came in," replied Simon as he handed a file to Jim. 

The detective flipped through the file with his partner reading over his shoulder. 

"Shouldn't this supposed to be homicide's case?" asked Blair after looking through a few pages. 

"Actually, it came down from homicide. They couldn't find any evidence that indicated the guy had actually been murdered. From what I know, it was as if the victim decided that wherever he was, it was a good place to die," Simon supplied. 

"You mean he just literally dropped dead?" Jim asked. 

"From what they've found? Yes," Simon confirmed. 

"Wait a minute. How can anyone just die without any reason?" Blair asked. 

"Apparently, he did." Simon pointed at the file Jim's holding with an unlit cigar. 

"The autopsy reports that he was in perfect health and there was no sign of poison," Jim said as he continued to read the file. "There's another one?" he asked as he read the last two pages of the file. 

"What do you mean another one?" Blair asked. 

"The first body was found yesterday morning and there was a second one this morning," Simon replied. 

"So we might have a serial killer on our hands?" Blair asked as he sat at the edge of Simon's desk. 

"I don't know, Chief," replied Jim. 

"Why don't the both of you go check out the crime scene and see if Jim can pick anything up that forensics couldn't," Simon suggested. 

"Yes, sir," Jim and Blair replied as they headed out of Simon's office. 

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the latest crime scene: a warehouse near Cascade waterfront that was undergoing some repairs and renovations. 

"What's with criminals and warehouse?" Blair could not help commenting. 

The actual crime scene had been sealed off by police line, the chalk out line of the position of the body could clearly be seen near the center of the area. 

A strange sense of familiarity washed over Blair as he got close to the scene. _Where have I seen this before?_ He thought, a puzzled look forming on his face. 

"Chief? Something wrong?" Jim asked, noticing the look on his partner's face. 

"I don't know. All this," Blair gestured, indicating the crime scene. "Seems familiar, but I don't know where I've seen it before." Blair shook his head to clear his mind. "Anyway, let's see what you can find." The mere mention of what Jim was about to do immediately perked him up and he filed the incident away at the back of his mind to wonder about it later. 

Blair guided Jim through each of his senses; trying to find even the smallest amount of evidence that forensics might have missed. An hour later, all they had managed to come up with was that the victim had walked to a point, stood there for some time, retreated a few feet and eventually ended up where he had died. 

"How could anyone _not_ leave any traces?" Jim asked. 

"I don't know, man. I mean if the victim had left some foot prints, it would be logical to suggest that the killer would also leave his prints," Blair analyzed. "If the victim had stood here," Blair walked to the point where Jim had indicated earlier as where the victim had stopped. "Then the...." he stopped suddenly, as a sense of dreadfulness over came him, sending a chill down his spine. 

"Chief?" Jim sounded concerned. "Are you all right?" 

"There...there's something wrong here," Blair finally managed to say as he stepped away from where he stood. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I don't know! As soon as I get near this spot," Blair indicated to the place he had stood a moment ago. "This...this sense of dread and terror just passes over me!" 

Jim walked to the spot Blair indicated and stood there for a moment. 

"Well?" asked Blair. 

"I don't know, Chief." 

"What do you mean you don't know?" 

"There's nothing here as far as I can tell," Jim replied. 

"Nothing?! What do you mean nothing?! How could there be nothing?!" 

"Whoa! Hold on there, Chief! Even if I can't feel anything, it doesn't mean that it's not here. If there's one lesson I've learnt from you, it's that even if I can't feel or see something doesn't mean it's not there," explained Jim. 

"But why would I feel it when you can't?" Blair was confused. 

"Hey, you're supposed to be the Shaman of the Great City. You go figure it out," said Jim. 

"You're _so_ helpful Jim," Blair replied sarcastically. 

"Anything to help you, Chief. Anything," Jim replied with a grin on his face as he stirred Blair towards his truck. 

* * *

Simon was not too happy about what Jim and Blair found, or more accurately, what they had not found. "What do you mean there's nothing?" Simon asked, another unlit cigar between his fingers. "There has to be _something_!" 

"I'm telling you, sir. There's absolutely nothing there other than the muddy foot prints of the victim," Jim replied, not so happy with the results of his search either. 

"The foot prints of the victim? Wait a minute, if you have found the victim's prints, wouldn't you find the killer's print? He couldn't possibly have been flying when he killed the guy, right?" asked Simon. "Right?" he asked again as he saw the doubtful look that passed between the partners. 

"Ah...we're not so sure about that Simon," Blair replied. 

"What do you mean you're not sure?!" demanded Simon. 

"We really didn't find any other prints there, except those of the forensic crew and the officers who were there earlier. Other than that, absolutely nothing," Jim repeated. "I have no idea how that's possible, but apparently someone's done it." 

"Would it be possible that they died of natural causes?" Blair asked suddenly. "I mean, if there're no traces of the killer, the guy might have just died of a block in his air way or something." 

"Chief, the autopsy report came back saying that both men were in perfect health. And have you seen the pictures of the body?" When Blair shook his head, he continued. "Both of the victims had this terrified look on their faces, as if they were facing their worst nightmare or something. From that, I think we can rule out natural causes as a cause of death." 

"Terrified look?" asked Blair. 

"Yeah. Like the look on your face when you see something you're really scared of?" Simon added as though explaining to a three years old. 

"Oh, okay. So whoever killed them must either be someone they're afraid of or look really bad," said Blair. 

"Probably," Jim agreed. 

"If they're afraid of the same guy, it would suggest that both might have something in common. But what?" Blair continued. 

"That, gentlemen, is your job to find out," said Simon as he finally lit his cigar. 

"Right on it," said Jim as he got up and left Simon's office, Blair on his trail. 

* * *

"Chief? Are you okay?" Jim asked as they were on their way home after a whole day of fruitless searching for a common link. Everything they could think of, which was quite a bit, turned up a dead end. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" 

"First big clue is that you haven't spoken more than a sentence since we left the station and second huge clue is your face." 

"My face? What's with my face?" Blair asked, straining his neck trying to catch his reflection on the rare view mirror. 

"You looked troubled," Jim replied, eyes focusing on the road. "So what's on your mind?" 

"I'm just thinking about the case. That's all." 

"I don't think so, Chief. You know better than to try that obfuscation trick of yours on me," Jim pushed. 

"Yeah, I should know better than to lie to a human lie detector," Blair replied with a smile on his face. 

"So what's bothering you?" 

"Remember when we were at the crime scene this morning?" 

"Yeah. You said that it seemed familiar to you. So you remember where you've seen it?" 

"No, I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking about that strange feeling I felt." 

"So?" asked Jim, not really getting the point. 

"I don't know. This whole thing just doesn't feel right to me," Blair said in frustration. "I've been thinking about it and I just can't figure out why you didn't sense it. I mean you are the Sentinel here, not me. If I could sense it, why not you? It just doesn't make sense!" 

"Whoa! Chief, you're babbling." 

"Uh, sorry." 

"That's okay. I got what you're trying to say," Jim said. 

They traveled in silence for the rest of the trip, each deep in their own thought. A few minutes later Jim was closing the door to the loft. 

"Come to think of it, it does make sense," Jim suddenly said after he closed the door. 

"What?" Blair asked with a puzzled expression. 

"It does make sense that you might sense something that I couldn't," Jim supplied. 

"Huh? Did you forget that you're the one with the enhanced senses here?" 

"No. Let me finish, Chief. I'm the Sentinel and you're the Guide right?" 

Blair nodded. 

"And you're supposed to be the Shaman of the Great City right?" 

Blair nodded again. 

"Then doesn't it make sense that you're able to sense some...some things that are out of this world?" Jim concluded. 

"Out of this world?" 

"Yeah. All that mystical stuff you're always talking about. Point is, you're the Shaman, you're supposed to be sensing all this stuff. Me? I'm just the Sentinel and both my feet are on solid ground," said Jim. 

"I think I'm gonna need to meditate on that," said Blair after a moment's thought. 

"Before or after you cook diner?" Jim teased. 

"Haha, very funny." 

* * *

Blair took his own advice and went back to his room after helping Jim clear up the plates. He sat on the floor in his room in a half lotus position, trying to center himself so that he could slip into a meditative state. Just as he was about to achieve his goal, images assaulted his mind. 

Form where he was, he could see an outline of a person on the ground, trying to get away from a formless shadow that was approaching him. Voices were yelling something that he could not make out. One of those voices seemed to be his. 

Just then, he was jolted out of his vision. 

"Hey, Chief. Everything all right?" Jim asked as he poked his head into Blair's room. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" asked Blair, wondering what had caught his roommate's attention. 

"Your heartbeat was going way off the scale for a moment there and I was worried. You sure? 'Cause you don't look really good there," said Jim, sounding concerned. 

"I'm fine. I just didn't expect to see what I saw," explained Blair. Seeing Jim leaning against the doorframe of his room looking at him expectantly, he continued. "There was this...this shadow that was after this other guy. Then there were people yelling stuff that I can't make out. And that's about it. Though I thought I heard my own voice, but I'm not sure." 

"Shadow? What kind of shadow?" Jim questioned. 

"I don't know. As far as I can tell, it didn't seem to have a form." 

"How can a shadow be without form? There must be something that's casting the shadow." 

"Beats me. There wasn't anything there that I could see that's casting the shadow. It was on some sort of plain. Anyway, can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm like so tired," Blair said as he let out a yawn. 

"Yeah, sure. Good night." 

"Nite." 

* * *

The next morning, a new case file was on Jim's desk when they reported in. And, as they got to the crime scene, an alley 5 blocks away from the station, Blair again sensed something familiar about the place. Something that never happened to him the numerous times he had pass the alley on his way from the station to the university. How it was possible, he didn't know. 

"Chief, are you okay?" Jim asked as they headed back to the station after a fruitless search at the crime scene. 

"You seem to be asking this question a lot lately," Blair said lightheartedly, wanting to reassure his partner and friend that he was fine. 

"Well, you seemed distracted since the moment we arrived at that alley." 

"Remember that deja-vu feeling I had yesterday?" Blair asked. 

"Yeah?" 

"I had the same feeling when we got to that alley, and that...that sense of dread was there too. Everything felt familiar, but I just have no idea where I've seen all this before." Blair ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I spent half the night yesterday trying to figure that out but nothing came to me. A big blank." 

"You think you might have seen all this somewhere?" Jim asked. 

"Yeah. But I just _can't_ remember! This is really getting frustrating," Blair let out a sigh. 

"Maybe we could check the police records and see if there are any similar cases. Maybe you've stumbled on them on the news or something," suggested Jim. 

"Yeah. Maybe. I'll run the check once we get back to the station." 

* * *

More than three hours had passed since Blair initiated an automatic search through the police record throughout the country and nothing had turned up. Jim had gotten impatient and went to the break room for some coffee. 

"Hey, Chief, want to get some lunch?" Jim asked the anthropologist as he came back with a cup of coffee in his hands. 

"Well, I don't see why not," said Blair as he got up and grabbed his coat. 

"What about the computer?" Jim asked. 

"Oh, it'll just go on searching until it finds a match or something close to what we're looking for," Blair replied. 

"How long did you say it would take?" 

"I have absolutely no idea. Could be three minutes, could be three months." 

"Three months?! You didn't tell me that!" said Jim. "And while the computer is doing what it's doing, what are we doing?" 

"We're waiting," said Blair as they got into the elevator. 

"I hate waiting," Jim muttered as the door closed. 

* * *

The computer was flashing a signal when the duo got back from lunch forty-five minutes later. Blair quickly rushed to the terminal and scanned through the contents. 

"What is it, Chief?" Jim asked. 

"I think we've got it. It says here that there were a couple of similar cases in some of the cities across the country. The earliest ones were in Sloanville about two and a half months ago, Peter was on the case but it was never solved. Then there was a few more in Chicago, Ray was working on that one and it never got solved either. And the latest one was last week in Missouri, Montana. Unsolved. Let me print this out," said Blair as he hit the print button. 

"Sloanville, Chicago, Missouri and now Cascade," Jim wondered out loud. "This guy's moving across the country, east to west." 

"That's what I said, across the country. But there was only one case in Missouri while there were several in Sloanville and Chicago, not to mention Cascade." said Blair. "Do you think he's in a rush to get here or something?" 

"Maybe, but that still doesn't explain the multiple killings in Sloanville and Chicago. I think it's time to give our friends there a call to find out what's with this case," Jim said as he picked up the printouts and headed towards Simon's office to inform him of their discoveries. 

* * *

"101st, Detective Caine," Peter answered his phone. 

"Peter? Blair here," the familiar voice at the other end replied. 

"Blair? Okay, what is it this time?" asked the Detective suspiciously, leaning back in his chair. 

"I'm offended. Can't I just call and say hi to a friend? What makes you think I have a problem?" said Blair. 

"Well, let's see, the first time you got in touch with me, we ended up trying to stop the Dark Warrior, then the last time we communicated, we ended up chasing mobsters from Chicago that broke into your office for some disk. I think I see a pattern here. Every time we speak, there's some kind of trouble going on. So, what is it this time?" 

"Well if you put it that way, do you remember a case you were on about two and a half months ago?" asked Blair. 

"I was on a lot of cases, which one did you have in mind?" 

"The one where the victims seemed to be scared to death for no obvious reason. No connections between victims except the way they died and a dead body turns up almost every morning," Blair supplied. 

"Oh, _that_ case. I had a feeling I hadn't heard the last of it," said Peter, getting serious. "It's happening in Cascade?" 

"Yeah and Jim couldn't find any clues to it. We ended up running a search on the database..." 

"And my name turned up," Peter finished the sentence for his friend. 

"Yep. Yours and Ray Vecchio's. Simon's going to be calling your Captain about it, I just thought that I'd fill you in before she dumps it on you," said Blair. 

"I appreciate it, and did you say Ray?" asked Peter. 

Just then Captain Karen Simms stepped out of her office and signaled to Peter, "In my office," she mounted. 

"Listen, I think she just heard from Banks. I'll get over to Cascade as soon as possible," said Peter as he got up from his chair. 

"Thanks! I'll see you." And they hung up. 

* * *

"Vecchio!" Ray answered the ringing phone on his desk. 

"Ray, it's Jim Ellison," 

"Jim? How have you been?" the Chicago detective greeted him. 

"As good as I could possibly be with the Commissioner down my back, or more precisely, down my Captain's back," Jim replied. 

"That bad, huh?" 

"Yeah. Listen, do you remember a series strange murders about a month ago in Chicago? The ones where all the victims had this terrified expression on their face?" Jim asked. 

"I knew I hadn't heard the last of it!" Ray exclaimed. 

"I take it that you remember it," Jim said at the other end. 

"Oh yeah, why? Don't tell me that the same type of stiffs are showin' up in Cascade," Ray said. 

"I'm afraid so. We couldn't find a clue to it so Sandburg ran a check in the database..." 

"And my name popped up and hit ya'll in the face," Ray completed the sentence. 

"Right. Yours and Peter Caine's. Simon's talking to your lieutenant as we speak, I'm sure you'll hear from him soon. Just thought I'd call and warn you about it before he drops it on your lap," Jim explained. 

"Thanks. Did you say Peter?" 

"Yeah. Blair's getting in touch with him right now. Something similar happened in Sloanville about two months ago." 

"I see. Anyway, you called Fraser? He was workin' with me on it," Ray asked. 

"I'll ask Simon to get in touch with his superior and I trust that you'll tell him I called," 

"Sure, I could do that," said Ray. 

"Vecchio! In my office!" Lieutenant Welsh's voice boomed through the squad room. 

"Gotta go! I'm sure you heard that," 

"Yeah, so did the rest of Cascade. I'll see you." 

* * *

"Canadian Consulate, Constable Fraser speaking," Fraser answered the phone. 

"Fraser, it's me. Jim just called from Cascade about ten minutes ago," said Ray. 

"Oh, what did he say?" asked Fraser. 

"Remember those unsolved murders we had about a month ago?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, apparently the same thing's happening in Cascade and they're facing the same problems we had. No clue, no nothin'," Ray explained. 

"And they thought that since you were working on a similar case, you might have something they missed," Fraser concluded. 

"Something like that. Banks' callin' the Ice Queen to request that you come along with me to help them. And Peter's going to be there too," said Ray. "I think the same thing happened in Sloanville." 

"Really? That's interesting," Fraser commented. 

"Yeah. I think you'll be hearing from the Ice Queen soon. I better get going. I'll pick you up for dinner tonight and we could go over it then," said Ray. 

"Very well." 

There was a knock on Fraser's office door just as he hung up the phone and Inspector Margaret Thatcher walked in. 

"Constable, I just received a call from the Cascade P.D..." 

* * *

He was there at the field again. Blair realized that he must be dreaming since he did not remember sitting down to meditate. The formless shadow was chasing someone he could not see, voices were yelling in an ancient tongue that seemed familiar to him, and yet he did not understood a word that was spoken. The stranger thing is that he thought he heard his voice. Then there was a flash of pure white light that seemed to came out of nowhere and strike the shadow, which caused it to shimmer out for a second. The shadowy figure then turned, looking towards the direction Blair was standing. Suddenly a beeping sound filled the plane of existence he was in and Blair woke up with a start. 

Blair silenced his alarm and sat up on his bed, images from his dream still vivid in his memory. 

_First there was the vision, and now I'm dreaming about it. It must be important if it keeps coming back like this, but what does it mean? And how the heck am I supposed to figure it out if I can't understand a thing that was being said in there?!_ Blair's brain was going at warp speed, which was a little out of character for him since he normally needed a dose of caffeine before he could be fully conscious. 

"Hey, Chief?!" His roommate Jim Ellison's voice sounded from the kitchen. "You gonna stay in bed all day or what?" 

"Coming!" Blair said in a normal tone of voice, knowing that Jim, with his heightened sense of hearing could hear him perfectly well. 

The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted him as Blair stepped out of his room. Jim handed him a mug and Blair gladly accepted it. 

"When are the guys due in?" Blair asked as he sipped the coffee. 

"Ray said he'd be arriving sometime late morning, I don't know about Peter though," his friend replied. 

"Great. I can't wait for them to get here. I have a feeling that we're going to need all the help we can get." 

"Me too, Chief. Me too." 

* * *

"Can I help you?" Blair asked a dark haired lady who had walked into the bullpen sometime after lunch looking somewhat lost. 

"Yes, I'm looking for a Detective Ellison." 

"Uh, Jim's not here at this moment..." 

"Back off Sandburg." A friendly voice interrupted Blair before he could finish. Blair turned in the direction the voice came from and was greeted by a smiling Peter Caine. "That's my partner you're talking to." 

"Partner?" 

"Yes. As in working partner." 

"Oh." 

"Come on Peter. Aren't you going to introduce me to your helpful friend here?" the lady said. 

"Skalany, meet Blair Sandburg, consultant to the department and Blair, meet Detective Mary Margaret Skalany, my partner for this case." 

Once the formalities were over, Blair informed the pair from Sloanville that Jim had driven Ray and Fraser to their hotel to drop their luggage off, briefing them on the case along the way. 

"So, where are you staying?" Blair asked. 

"Don't know. Haven't made any reservations yet. I figured we could get a room anywhere at this time of the year. That hotel we stayed at the last time I was here wasn't that bad." Peter replied. "And it's only a couple of blocks from here." 

"Cool! That's where Ray and Fraser's staying. I'll call Jim and ask him to get you guys a room." 

"Make that two rooms," Skalany added. 

"Right." 

* * *

Just as the group of six met at the hotel's lobby, Jim's cell phone rang. 

"Ellison," he answered. "Where...right, on our way." He pocketed his phone and turned to the other members of the group, expression grim. "We've got another one." 

"Why am I not surprised?" Ray and Peter muttered in unison as they followed Jim's lead. 

* * *

A strange sense of familiarity came over Ray as soon as he stepped out of the car at the latest crime scene. He didn't know the place itself, but somehow, he knew the essence of it. 

* * *

The puzzled expression Skalany had gotten to know so well during their investigation weeks ago was back on Peter's face as soon as he stepped out of the car to the latest crime scene. 

"Hey partner, you all right?" 

"Yeah. I'm fine. It's that sense again. This is definitely connected to those killings back home." 

* * *

_Whoa! Deja-vu!_ Blair thought as soon as they arrived at the crime scene. _This is getting really weird even for me!_

* * *

As they expected, nothing was found at the crime scene except for the body, which carried a fearful expression. Fearful of what, no one other than the victim knew the answer. 

The group headed back to the station with nothing more than what they had started with and, naturally, Simon was not too happy about it. Understanding, but not happy. 

"Look guys, we're not getting anywhere here and the four of you must be exhausted after flying in from across the country," Jim stated by the end of the unproductive day. 

"Yeah, not to mention that I could eat a horse right now," said Ray as he stood up and stretch. 

"So, why don't we go get some dinner, have a good night's rest and have get a fresh start tomorrow?" Blair suggested. 

"Exactly what I was going to say, Chief," Jim agreed. 

"I'll second that!" Skalany perked up at the mention of food. 

With that, the group packed up, grabbed their coats and headed for dinner. 

* * *

As they expected, another body turned up the next day, this time at the worst part of the city. The victim was a known gang member based in that part of town. 

"This is getting _really_ creepy!" Blair muttered as he headed back to the car after a fruitless search of the area. 

"What's gettin' creepy?" Ray, who was walking beside the anthropologist asked. 

"All this murder." Blair answered. "It's like I've seen them before, but I know that I haven't, because if I ever had, trust me, I'd remember 'em!" 

"Wait a minute," Ray suddenly stopped in his tracks, a hand on Blair's shoulder, stopping him from continuing. "Yer tellin' me that all these seemed familiar to you? Like you've seen 'em before?" 

"Yeah. But I know I haven't. It's just that there's always this sense of..." 

"Deja-vu." Peter completed the sentence. 

"Are you telling me that you have that same feelin' too?" Ray asked. 

"As a matter of fact, yes. I've been trying to figure out what this all means since the first victim showed up." 

"And?" Blair and Ray chorused. 

"And I can't." Peter concluded. "Why are you so interested in it anyway?" Peter asked the Chicago detective. 

"'Cause I've been having the same feelin'. Not to mention every time I get close to one of these stiffs, I'm bound to see an episode of 'Shadow Man', courtesy of whoever that might be." 

"Shadow Man?" Peter asked, obviously amused with the nickname. 

"Yeah, Shadow Man with big red eyes," Ray replied. 

"And bright light with people yelling..." Blair continued. 

"In some weird ancient language." Peter completed. 

"Ancient Gaelic actually. Fraser got that part figured out." Ray supplied. 

"Hey guys, is this a private party or can anyone join?" Skalany asked, eyeing the three males standing in a circle, facing each other. 

"I think we might have something." Peter said, looking at Blair and Ray. 

* * *

"Whaddaya mean you can't translate it?" Ray asked Fraser as they stood in Ellison's living room, in the process of carrying out Peter's plan. 

"It means I can't translate it. I'm not fluent enough in the language to provide an accurate translation." Fraser explained. 

"Then what do you call that thing you did the last time I spoke it?" 

"Well, what you said was close enough to the modern version of the language that I managed to get the gist of what you were saying, but I am not fluent in the language, especially not ancient Gaelic." 

"Well, I guess I'll have to track down someone in the ancient language department to help us out." Blair said after he was done rearranging the furniture in the living room so there was now more space in the middle. 

"Here you go, Chief." Jim handed a tape recorder to Blair. 

"You sure the mike's sensitive enough?" Blair asked. 

"That's the best they have." Ellison replied. "Where's Peter?" 

"Here." The detective in question appeared from the bathroom as if on cue. "So, you guys ready?" 

"Yeah." Blair said, settling himself down into a half lotus position on the rug where the coffee table once was. Peter and Ray followed suite, forming a human triangle in the living room. 

"Umm...how exactly does this go again?" Ray asked nervously. 

"Just relax and clear you mind. Don't try to seek it, just let it come to you," Peter instructed the less experienced detective. 

"Right." 

"Jim? You're getting all of this?" 

"Loud and clear, Chief." 

"I guess here goes nothin'," Ray muttered as the three men linked hands...and plunged into a world of chaos. 

* * *

*"Peter!" Ray yelled, seeing the red-eyed shadow towering over his friend. Without thinking, he began chanting a spell, unleashing a bright white light that hit the shadow. Its form wavered out of phase for a second but came back into focus. Abandoning its intended target, it turned its attention to Ray, slowly approaching. 

"No!" Ray heard Peter cry out as he eyed the evil form that was approaching him, looking straight into its red eyes. "Blair! Do something!" 

"I'm trying! I'm trying!" 

Another white flash hit the shadow, but this time with no effect whatsoever and it continued its way, ignoring the other two. 

Ray, knowing that he had the full attention of the creature in front of him slowly backed towards the entrance of the cave to his right. 

"There is no place you could hide." The shadow said. 

"Who said I was going to hide?" Ray calmly informed the shadow, still looking at it straight in its eyes. 

Picking up on Ray's plan, Peter and Blair slowly approached the shadow from behind, Blair to its right with Peter directly behind it, effectively trapping the shadow as Ray lured it towards the cave. 

"Really?" The shadow questioned. "Then why are you backtracking?" 

"I'm merely..." 

Step. 

"Trying..." 

Step. 

"To get..." 

Step. 

"You..." 

Step in position. 

"Exactly where I want you." 

With that, the three humans began chanting, summoning a force greater than themselves into existence that would rid the world of the evil that was the shadow. 

"NO!!" It gave out a scream, realizing what was happening. "You will pay!" It screeched, seeming to grow in size despite the spell. Its form appeared to explode, tearing the shadow into pieces, and knocking all three onto the ground. Then there was a loud howl as the wind gathered in force and an unknown source of light grew blindingly bright. All the shadowy fragments were sucked into the depth of the cave and vanished. 

Silence fell as soon as the shadow was gone. 

"Blair?" Ray croaked out from where he lay as soon as he was able to speak. 

"I think I'm all right. What did he do in the end there?" 

"Beats the hell out of me there, brother. Peter?" 

"I don't think I feel so good." 

"I think I feel a little woozy too now that you mention it." Ray replied. 

"Me too." 

"Must be that thing he did. I have a feeling that we won't get to see tomorrow's sun rise." Peter said as he slowly sat up. 

"Well, at least we did some good and got rid of him." Ray said as he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the dizziness. 

"Yeah. Mother and Father would be proud." Blair said. 

"Yeah. They would." Ray said. 

"Wish that I knew my parents." Peter said softly. 

Silence fell again, this time uninterrupted.* 

* * *

"Sandburg!" Ellison rushed towards his partner as he collapsed, noticing Skalany and Fraser doing the same with their respective partners. 

"So tired," Blair managed before succumbing to the darkness. 

"Yeah, I think I'll take a nap now," said Peter, the more experienced of the trio. "Next time, remind me to do this on the bed." He managed to make his way to the couch with Skalany's help before passing out. Like Sandburg, Ray had to be hauled onto a more comfortable piece of furniture than the floor. 

"Well, I guess we'll have to wait till they wake up to find out what happened." Jim commented as he came down the stairs after settling Sandburg onto his bed since Ray was occupying Blair's at the moment. 

"Indeed." Fraser agreed. 

"Any ideas how long that might take?" Jim asked. 

"From what I've seen, at least a few hours." Skalany replied. "Now, what does a lady have to do to get some food around here?" 

"Well, we have some left over chili Sandburg made a couple days ago. I could heat them up." Jim offered. 

"You do that. And Fraser, you could let us in on what they were saying while Jim's playing cook." Skalany said as she steered the Mountie towards the kitchen. 

* * *

"Blair! What a pleasant surprise!" The petite woman behind the disorganized desk exclaimed upon seeing the grad-student. 

"Nice to see you too, Ginny." Blair greeted, giving the dark haired woman a warm hug. 

"What is it this time? I told you last time I wasn't going to give you any more phone numbers, so don't even think about it!" Ginny chided. 

"Whoa! Who said anything about phone numbers? I was just wondering if you could translate something for me," Blair replied. 

"Oh, official visit then. I swear Blair, the only time you drop by to see me is when you have some favor to ask. What happened to those social visits you were so fond of a couple years ago?" 

"Sorry. Been pretty busy with the research and all." Blair apologized with a grin. 

"Right. But apparently not busy enough to stop by and ask me for my female staffs' phone number." Ginny teased. "Anyway, back to business. What is it you want me to translate?" 

"This," said Blair as he took out an audiotape from his backpack and handed it to Ginny. "From what I know, it seems to be Ancient Gaelic and since you're the only person I know that specializes in ancient languages, I thought you might be able to help me out." 

"It's in audio?" 

"Yeah. That wouldn't be a problem, would it?" 

"Actually, it would. As you know, my specialty is Ancient Greek and whilst I did dabble a bit in Ancient Gaelic, I don't think I'm good enough to translate it directly from audio. But..." Ginny added, seeing the disappointment on Blair's face. "I know someone who might." She finished. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. He's temporarily working for the department, helping to translate those Sumerian tablets that've been sitting on display for months. I'll see if I can find his contact number." 

"You mean those tablets you told me about? The ones where the whole committee couldn't figure out what it said?" 

"Yep." Ginny replied, flipping through her cardholder for the number. 

"Wow. He must be good then." 

"Oh yeah. As a matter of fact, I think 'good' would be an understatement. He's only been here for a week and he's already got half of it figured out. Can you believe it? We've been puzzling over it for months and he's got it figured out in a week! And he's also fluent in countless other, not just dead languages, but modern languages as well. The guy's a genius if you ask me, not to mention utterly gorgeous." She added with a giggle. 

"Gorgeous?" Blair asked. 

"Yup. You'd think someone with that much knowledge in ancient language would be old and gray by the time they're done with all the studying, but personally I don't think he's a day past thirty. Okay, here it is. Adam Pierson. He's normally based in Paris, but he was in Seacouver for a short while and that's why we were able to get him to help us out." 

"Thanks Ginny! You're the greatest!" 

"You owe me one, Blair." Ginny gave Blair a stare. 

"I know. Saturday, dinner on me." 

"You got yourself a date!" Ginny agreed with a radiant smile. 

"I'll pick you up at seven. See you then." With that Blair rushed out of the office to inform the others of his progress. 

* * *

"How did it go?" Ray asked the moment he spotted Blair coming into the bullpen. 

"Uh, not much luck actually. Ginny couldn't give us an accurate translation based on an audio source, but she did give me the number of someone who might be able to help us. Adam Pierson. Ginny said that he was better than good in the ancient language department. I tried giving him a call earlier, but no one was around." 

"Do we have an address?" Peter asked. 

"Not that I know of. We'll just have to call till we get him on the phone I guess." 

"You do that, Chief. The rest of us will go through the files again. See if we missed anything." 

As the rest of the gang poured into the conference room, Blair settled himself in front of the phone and started dialing. 

_Can't the man get an answering machine?!_ The grad-student thought as he dialed the same number for the ninth time. 

"Hello?" 

Blair was almost surprised to hear the voice from the other end of the line. 

"Dr. Pierson?" 

"Yes?" 

"My name's Blair Sandburg and I was told that you might be able to translate some ancient texts that I've got. Not texts as in written texts, but an audiotape actually," the grad student explained. 

"And who was it that you've spoken to thought that I could help?" the British accented voice asked. "Wait, she wouldn't happen to be around 5'1, dark brown hair, utterly disorganized, and an expert in Ancient Greek, would she?" 

"That's Ginny all right," Blair answered with a smile. 

"All right, bring the darn thing over and I'll see what I can do." 

* * *

"Well, that's it. What do you think? Do you know what's on it? Could you translate it?" Blair asked as soon as he hit the stop button on the audio recorder. 

"Do you need a sedative? Slow down! And yes I can translate it. It's a battle between some sorcerer's apprentices and an evil force, along with some chants, spells they use to defeat the evil. And of course, like all evil forces, it swore revenge against the apprentices and, using the last of its strength, managed to kill all of them before it was banished into some cave or something like that. " 

"You managed to get all of that by just listening to it this one time?" Skalany, who had accompanied Blair along the trip, asked in awe. 

"I did, didn't I?" 

"Wow. Good looking _and_ smart!" 

"I do aim to please, madam," Pierson said in a French accent and an enchanting smile. 

"Good looking, smart and _charming_!" 

"Uh ... guys, back on topic here," Blair interrupted. "Dr. Pierson-" 

"Adam." 

"Right, Adam, uh, right, back on topic. Could you translate that part you said was some sort of chant or spell? Word for word?" 

"You're telling me that you read all that out, perfectly, without difficulties, but you didn't understood a word that was spoken?" Adam asked, disbelieved. 

"Read all that out? I didn't read it!" Blair denied. 

"Right, and that wasn't your voice I heard on the tape." 

"Well, it was but I wasn't reading anything." 

"Uh huh. You just happen to speak ancient Gaelic in your sleep. Well, we'll have to watch out for the news tomorrow then, won't we?" 

"Why would we want to do that?" the Detective asked, puzzled. 

"Because," Adam explained patiently, as though to a group of four-year-olds, "Bewildered farmers everywhere will be calling up their local TV stations, and the six o'clock news will suddenly be filled with mutilated hogs. A real ratings winner!" 

"Look, I don't speak Gaelic. As for why my voice is on that tape, it's a long story, lives are at stake here and we don't really have time to go through it. So, if you could get to the translation, we'd really appreciate it." 

"Oh, keep your story, I'm not planning on getting involved! I came here to get some peace and quiet, not to get dragged into another crazy plan. As for the translation, play that tape again." 

Skalany rewound the tape and played it again while Adam got a pen and paper and started to write. Blair just looked at Skalany and shrug his shoulders as they watched the other man work. 

"Voila!" Adam announced fifteen minutes later as the recorder came to a stop with a click. "If you can find a faster and more accurate translation anywhere on the planet, let me know, I'd really like to meet the other guy." He continued, as he handed the paper to Blair. 

"That's it? You're done?" Blair asked, disbelief. 

"Yup. Word for word as requested. What did you expect? Checking the dictionaries after listening to every word and debating with myself if it is was a noun, verb or adjective? Sorry to disappoint ya pal. If you had said something earlier, I could've set something up, but since you mentioned that it was urgent and lives were at stake, I figured you'd want it ASAP." 

"Well, yeah. Uh...thanks." 

"You're welcome, and lock the door behind you when you leave." 

* * *

"Hey Chief, you get to meet the guy?" Jim asked as soon as he spotted his partner trotting into the bullpen with Skalany at his heels. 

"Yeah, and Ginny was right. He's better than good," the anthropologist replied. 

"So when are we going to get the results?" Peter inquired. 

"It's right here." Skalany pulled a piece of folded paper from her handbag and handed it over to her partner. 

"Whaddaya mean? He couldn't have..." 

"Yep! He translated the entire thing on the spot." Blair confirmed before Ray could go on. "You should've seen it, guys. It was just amazing! He summarized the entire thing right after I played the tape for the first time..." 

"Blair," Peter interrupted. "I'm sure it was amazing, but I think we could leave the story till after we track this thing down." 

"Right." 

"So," Ray spoke for the first time since Blair's return. "Any idea how to find this shadow thing?" 

Looking at each other, they all realized none of them had any clue whatsoever on how to track down the shadow killer. 

"I think we have our work cut out for us," Skalany commented before the rest of the gang once again piled into the conference room to brainstorm. 

* * *

Flipping through what must have been the twentieth book, trying to find an ancient obscure reference, Adam Pierson couldn't help the yawn that escaped him. Minutes passed and the words in front of him began to blur together into a heap of indistinguishable alphabets. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision and the letters separated, but before long, the words were again moving closer to each other. He finally gave up, closing the thick volume with a loud 'thump' that echoed through the almost empty library. 

Packing his notes, he stood up. The screeching of the chair against the marble floor earned him a killer glare from the librarian, but Adam ignored her. He was too tired to start a fight and he never fought unless he knew he was going to win. The librarian was still glaring at him as he walked past her on his way out. He was tempted to give her his 'look', but decided she just wasn't worth the effort it took to summon the energy for it. Besides, it would no doubt compromise his current identity as a mild mannered researcher who happened to be a language expert. 

Walking out of the library into the cold night air, his mind wandered back to his encounter with Sandburg and Co earlier in the evening. The Co was most certainly a cop, but Sandburg was as academic as they can get. So the question was where had the police got their hands on some ancient Gaelic curses and spells? Or for that matter, why would they want them? 

_Didn't you say you weren't going to get involved? Why are you thinking about it? Who cares where they got them and why they want them?!_ However, he knew his curiosity was sparked and he wouldn't be able to stop wondering about it until he found some answers. Yet, to find the answers, he would have to get involved, something his well-honed instincts were strongly against. 

He was trying to fish his car keys out of his pocket when he felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the wind. Dropping his bag, he quickly turned around, back against the car, and scanned his surroundings. Nothing. Other than him, there was no one else in the car park. As a matter of fact, his was one of the only three cars left at the parking lot this late at night. 

Adam knew better than to trust the peaceful facade he was witnessing while his instincts were screaming at him about looming danger. There was something out there, of that, he was sure. His hand reached beneath his coat and he drew his sword. The familiar weight of his weapon reassured him somewhat, but not much. 

Then, as if out of nowhere, a shadow appeared only a few feet in front of him, red eyes glowing in contrast to the darkness that was its form. Despite his readiness, Adam was startled by its appearance, not to mention its look or even the nature of the... _thing_ , but he showed no outward sign of fear or nervousness. 

The shadowy figure floated closer to him and Adam moved away from it, keeping the distance between them. 

"There is no escape." The thing said. 

Adam realized he hadn't really heard any sound; whatever this thing was, it communicated through the mind. 

"So powerful. Your strength is worth more than a thousand others. With you, my power would return completely and they would pay!" The shadow said, moving even closer as Adam retreated. 

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the shadow attacked, filling Adam's mind with a darkness that rivaled the night. Physically, the red eyed being didn't move at all, but the attack was very real. 

Fear flooded Adam's senses as the darkness descended, but he refused to give in to it. Somehow he knew it would be the end of him if he did. Concentrating, Adam tried to rely upon his ancient knowledge to shield his mind from the assault, but any defenses he managed to erect crumbled under the being's strength. 

"No use resisting. Surrender to the darkness!" The voice of the shadow roared in Adam's mind. 

"Never!" Adam said, remembering the end of the tape Sandburg played. Light. He needed light to disperse the darkness, the streetlights were clearly not enough and Adam doubted the torch in his trunk would do any good either, which only leave left him with his own power. His Quickening. But with the darkness so close, he just couldn't concentrate long enough to harness the power within him. 

"Surrender!" The shadow roared again. 

"Never!" Adam retorted, and he played his last card. Instead of surrendering, Adam released a part of him that he had kept in check for a long time, and embraced the darkness. It surrounded him and he, Adam -- Methos -- Death, relished in the familiarity of it. 

The shadow's eyes grew redder as it felt its power being absorbed by the man it was hunting. It tried again, only to be met with the same results. This seemed to amuse the man, who was closing the distance between them until he was standing less than an arm's length away. 

The eyes of the man showed no fear, nor was there any hint of humanity in them. 

"No use trying," the voice of the man sounded coldly within his mind, something that had never happened to it before. "Death will never be defeated. Death cannot be defeated." 

Death eyed the shadow in front of him coldly, as if daring it to try more of its tricks on him. Slowly the shadow moved back, retreating into the darkness, and disappeared. "I will be back and you will pay!" its voice echoed through Death's mind. 

The immortal only smirked. "Famous last words." 

* * *

Flinging his coat carelessly onto the chair, the immortal collapsed onto the couch. Death closed his eyes to relieve some tension, but when the lids opened a few minutes later, no sign of the Horseman was to be found, Methos was once again in control. 

Letting out a bone weary sigh, the oldest immortal headed towards the bedroom, passing out before his head even hit the pillow. 

Methos was awoken the next morning by the sun shining directly on his face. For a minute, he tried to remember where he was, and it was not easy after 5000 years, but eventually it came back to him: He was Adam Pierson, in Cascade translating some Sumerian tablets. Then the previous night's events came tumbling back, and Methos bolted out of bed as if he had been electrocuted. 

It had been so easy to welcome the darkness and bring back Death. The exhilaration of it was intoxicating. Methos had always known that Death was part of him and always would be, but it no longer ruled him. It had been too easy for him to slip back into the role of Death last night and that scared him. Over the years, he thought he'd changed, but last night's incident had created doubt. If there was one thing Methos really hated, it was uncertainty, especially if it was uncertainty with himself. 

* * *

"Adam!" Skalany exclaimed upon seeing the sweater clad figure at the Major Crimes' entrance. "What are you doing here?" 

"Actually, I was looking for you and Sandburg." Adam replied. 

"Why? Is there something wrong?" asked the female detective, sensing the tension of the other man. 

"It's about that tape yesterday, or rather, what's on that tape." 

"Hang on, you better come with me, I have a feeling that the rest of the guys might want to hear this." 

Following Skalany, Adam found himself in a conference room of sorts. Blair was pouring over a book, which was at least 3 inches thick, with a Canadian Mountie in full regalia standing behind him. A brown haired man was going through another book seemingly written in Chinese, while a blond guy was arguing something with a dark haired man. Adam gave a sudden yelp, feeling something wet licking his hand. Looking down, he saw a wolf staring at him rather... wolfishly, wagging its tail. 

The occupants of the room, hearing his distress, looked up. 

"Adam!" Blair exclaimed in surprised. 

"Diefenbaker!" the Mountie admonished, and the wolf at his heels, presumably Diefenbaker, whined. 

"Guys, this is Adam Pierson, he translated the tape yesterday." Blair introduced. 

"So, Adam," Ray said after getting all the introductions out of the way. "What are ya doing here?" 

"I think I may have some information you'll find useful." Adam replied. 

"What kind of information?" Jim asked, a little suspicious. 

"Oh, I don't know. You wouldn't happen to be trying to find this big black shadowy thing with red eyes would you?" 

The occupants of the conference room could only stare at the linguist in shock. Peter, sensing something different about Adam, was the first to recover his composure. 

"How, if you don't mind me asking, the hell do you know about that?" The Shaolin Cop demanded, pushing the book aside. 

"Let's just say, unlike Blair, it didn't bother calling before paying me a visit last night." 

"And you got away?!" Ray exclaimed. 

"It would of course, also explain why another body hasn't turned up this morning." Fraser concluded. "May I enquire as to how you managed to escape this creature when all the previous victims were unable to?" 

"I had a feeling you were going to ask that," Adam muttered. 

"Well?" Jim prompted, his enhanced hearing picking up what the other man said without any difficulties. 

"Frankly, I haven't the faintest clue. One minute it was hovering in front of me, the next, it was gone, promising vengeance. In other words, it'd be back to finish me off," Adam replied. 

"It talked to you?" Blair asked. 

"Uh...he didn't actually talk per se," Adam suddenly seemed unsure of himself. "More like um...telepathic." 

"You sure it isn't some form of hallucination? I mean, it'd kinda explain why you're still alive." Ray chipped in. 

"Oh, trust me, I know the difference between a hallucination and reality, and that thing last night was _definitely_ real!" 

"Did it mention why it let you go?" Skalany, now standing beside Peter, asked. 

"No, not really. Though it did said something about my strength or something being of more worth than a thousand others, and with it, its power will return. Whatever that means." 

"Okay," Blair started. "As far as we've been able to figure out from our research, the creature calls itself The Devourer Of Fear and Darkness, and it..." 

A snort, followed by a chuckle, which turned into a full-blown laugh emitted from the direction Adam was sitting. All eyes, including Diefenbaker's, turned their attention from Blair to him. 

"Um...sorry for the interruption, just ignore me." Adam apologized, but before Blair could continue, Adam was having yet another fit of giggles. "Sorry, but I really have to say this; Devourer Of Fear and Darkness?! What kind of name is that?!" And with that, Adam once again dissolved in yet another fit of giggles. This time, joined by Skalany, Jim, Ray, Peter, and Blair respectively. 

"I've gotta admit," Blair said, finally catching his breath. "It does sound pretty..." 

"Corny?" Skalany suggested. 

"More like stupid!" Jim and Ray said simultaneously. 

"Well, at least it doesn't dress like Darth Vader," Peter quipped. 

"Now, that's a mental image!" Adam stated, sending the entire room, other than the Mountie, into another fit of laughter. 

"All right, other than the clichd name, what more do we know about this thing?" Adam asked, finally managing to regain his composure. 

"Well, as I was saying, it feeds off the fears of its victims, and basically plunges them into darkness, therefore creating more fear for it to feed on, so I guess now we know where it gets its name from. It also says that DFD's powers are at its peak on Samhain night." 

"Samhain?" Jim enquired. 

"Halloween," Fraser supplied. "Which makes sense since according to Celtic beliefs, Samhain is the day when the doorway to the Otherworld is opened." 

"The traditional celebration also requires all fires to be extinguished, which I'm sure is something our beloved DFD would rejoice. On top of that, people feared they might be taken by spirits or accidentally wander into the Otherworld which would've no doubt sent DFD into a feeding frenzy as well." Adam concluded. 

"Halloween. Isn't that next Tuesday? We're running out of time." Peter said. 

"Five days. We've gotta stop it soon." Skalany added. 

"So, how are we gonna catch it?" Ray asked. 

"We trap it." Fraser stated, looking directly at Adam. 

Adam's eyes went wide as soon as the implications of Fraser's statement sank in. "No. I'm not gonna do it." Adam stated firmly. 

"You haven't even heard his plan yet," Jim said. 

"Oh, I know what he's planning!" 

Fraser merely raised his eyebrows in question. 

"You're going to follow me around 24/7, using me as bait to lure DFD out, and, when it appears, you're going to come crashing through the door and curse, banish or do whatever it is that was on that tape I heard yesterday." 

"And how do you know that's what we're going to do?" Peter asked. 

"Because, that's what I would do if I was in your place." 

"Then you must also realise that this is the best course of action." Fraser concluded. 

By this time, everyone in the room was looking at Adam expectantly. 

"No! I will not put my life in jeopardy just so you can track down some demon with a corny name. You guys are government employees, I'm the tax payer, do the math." 

* * *

Five minutes after the arrival of Ellison and Sandburg, Methos knew it was going to be a very long day. Two days as a prisoner in his own apartment, his every move being watched, was driving the ancient immortal up the wall, but the only thing Adam Pierson could do was smile and pretend that everything was all right. At least the Mountie and Vecchio were entertaining. He just knew Ellison was going to be trouble. 

Sandburg, after saying good morning, was immediately attracted to the collection of books that Adam had on his shelves and well, basically all over the place. 

After fifteen minutes of browsing, something finally caught the anthropologist's attention. After seeking his approval, he made himself comfortable and started reading. Methos doubted even a bomb going off right beside the grad student would divert his attention. 

After an hour of fruitless work, trying to translate one of the tablets from the university while Ellison stared a hole through his back, Methos finally gave up all pretense of working. 

"I'm going to fix myself an early lunch," Methos declared, not offering to share. As expected, Sandburg didn't even hear him, and the detective only continued to stare. 

Mentally cursing himself for not getting a toaster when he moved in, the immortal heated up the oven and dumped four slices of bread into it. _No one ever believes me when I tell them the toaster's the best invention of the century._ Methos mused, taking out the butter, ham and other required sandwich ingredients, including the all-important bottle of beer, from the fridge. 

Gulping down half of the bottle's content, Methos stood at the kitchen counter waiting for the bread to be ready. 

_Should've gotten the hell outta here when I had the chance. Methos thought. But there's no guarantee that the damned DFD wouldn't come after you anyway, so going to them for help is the best course of action, they'll take care of it, and you get to live._ His other inner voice countered. _That definitely did NOT include being bait!_

"Pierson!" Ellison's voice managed to snap Methos out of his thoughts. 

"What?" 

"Whatever you have in the oven smells like it's going to burn if you don't take it out now." 

"Shit!" the immortal cursed, quickly putting on oven mittens and taking the bread out. Ellison was right, if it had been a minute later, it would've burned. Sniffing at the air, Methos didn't notice any hint of burnt bread, but the detective had claimed he smelled it. 

"You're welcome," Ellison said sarcastically at Methos' lack of acknowledgement. 

"Not a problem," Methos replied, thinking that the detective must have the nose of a bloodhound. " Neukstier1. (Stupid stud bull)" The ancient added under his breath. 

"What did you say?!" Came Ellison's reply. 

_And the ears of a bat.._."Nothing." Methos replied. _He couldn't possible have heard that all the way from there, could he?_

"Oh, I don't think it was nothing. Look, Pierson, I know you know more about what's going on here than you're letting on. So let's just save us some time; you're gonna tell me, whatever it is, right here, right now. And don't even try to lie to me, because I'll know." Ellison said menacingly, whatever patience he had had, seemingly evaporated into thin air. 

_Oh really? Should be entertaining..._ A plan began to form in Methos's mind. 

* * *

Jim looked straight into Pierson's eyes, challenging the other man, and almost smiled when Adam finally lowered his gaze. 

"What are you hiding?" Jim demanded. 

"Nothing. I'm not hiding anything. It's just this whole incident reminded me of something that happened to a friend once," Adam replied, squeezing a liberal amount of mayonnaise onto his sandwich. 

"Really?" asked Jim as he focused his senses to monitor Pierson's pulse rate, breathing, and other indicators that would suggest the man might be lying. 

"Yes, but I really wouldn't want to bore you with my stories. It isn't really relevant here anyways." Pierson stated, taking a bite of his now fully constructed sandwich. Jim winced at the amplified crunch of the crispy bread being chewed noisily. 

"I'm sure it's an interesting story," Jim insisted, after tuning down his hearing a notch. 

"Well, if you insist," Pierson picked up his sandwich and settled himself comfortably on a chair before continuing. "It happened in Paris about a year or so ago when a friend of mine, MacLeod, started seeing things." 

"Seeing things?" 

"Yes, hallucinations, visions, whatever you want to call it. You do know what I mean?" Pierson asked, seemingly surprised at what Jim was asking. 

"Yeah, of course," Jim replied, annoyed. 

"Good. Anyway, he was haunted by these visions. Friends, lovers, enemies that were long dead came back to him, all demanding one thing. It almost drove him insane." Pierson stopped talking and took a sip of his beer. 

"What did they want?" Blair had somehow managed to get his nose out of the book he had been reading and had joined Jim on the couch, opposite Pierson. 

Pierson took another noisy bite of his sandwich and washed it down with another swing of beer. "At first MacLeod had no idea since all their voices were distorted and mingled, at least that was what he told me, then, after he ran out of the house despite my warnings, he met the being who was sending him the hallucinations." 

"A 'being' was making him see things? You've gotta be kidding me!" Jim exclaimed, not believing a word Pierson was saying, however, there hadn't been any physical indication that the man was lying either. 

"I kid you not!" Pierson appeared to be offended by what Jim was implying. "I followed MacLeod, trying to convince him how insane the entire situation was, and before I knew it, we were at this race track and there was this red mist surrounding him. He was wielding his sword in an almost insane rage, crying out 'No! I will not do it!!' at the top of his lungs." 

"Sword?" Blair asked, fascinated. 

"Yes," Pierson answered, taking another gulp of beer before continuing. "MacLeod was an antique dealer and he happened to have some weapons handy at that moment, but I digress. The red mist somehow intensified, and MacLeod sank to his knees, still crying out 'no', and this time, clutching his head. Or perhaps more accurately, his hair. I'm not too sure what happened here since MacLeod was reluctant to talk about his experience, but from what I gathered, the red mist was some demon called Ahriman, and for some reason, it wanted MacLeod to cut his hair." 

"What?!" Jim and Blair exclaimed simultaneously. 

"It's true! Apparently this demon was sick of the ponytail that he always wore and insisted that MacLeod cut his hair. When the hallucinations didn't work, Ahriman lured him out and launched his final assault against MacLeod." Pierson paused again, eating his sandwich. 

"And what's that?" Blair asked. 

"By showing him a possible future if he didn't cut his hair. It definitely freaked MacLeod out! Apparently, in that future, he ended up killing a close friend and protg of his, and during his self imposed exiled after that, he ended up in Malaysia, getting hit and tortured multiple times by durian fruits while he was there, and in the end, he would die at the hands of a cow. He gave in and cut his hair." Pierson concluded, taking another drink from the almost empty bottle. 

Jim could almost buy the bit about the hallucinations and the demon Ahriman; after all, he had had some similar experiences since becoming a Sentinel. Almost. But the whole thing with this MacLeod guy's hair was just way too much. 

And the worst of it was, the damn little weasel said it all with a totally straight face! Breathing, pulse rate, sweat... everything down to his pathetically earnest expression swore to Jim that he was telling the absolute truth. Or at least thought he was. There were only two possible explanations. Either Pierson himself was fooled into believing the story, or he was so good at lying that even Jim, the supposed human lie detector, couldn't tell the difference. However, Jim's confidence in his own skills led him to dismiss the latter case. 

"Interesting story," Jim finally commented dryly, still irked at being unable to expose whatever Pierson was really hiding. 

"But as I said earlier, it's not of any real relevance to our present situation." Pierson declared in a tone that suspiciously sounded like 'I told you so', before getting up to clear away his plate, not sparing Jim a second glance. 

Before the sound of the plate cluttering into the sink and the beer bottle hitting the bottom of the bin made Jim wince in pain, he could've sworn he heard Pierson muttering something that sounded like "Kak dva pal'tsa obossat2 (a piece of cake)" and a chuckle, although Jim couldn't be completely sure. 

* * *

Methos was digging through his room in search of a misplaced book when he felt a sudden chill not unlike the one he'd felt just a few nights ago when the DFD first appeared. Aware that he had precious few moments before it showed itself, Methos mentally prepared himself for the confrontation, knowing it would be up to him to delay the demon if help didn't arrive on time. 

Carefully, Methos began backing out of the room, showing no outward signs of having detected the DFD. 

"Detective," Methos addressed Ellison with his back to the cop. "I think you'd better call the others." 

"Why?" 

"Because, unless I'm mistaken, we have company." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a black, shapeless figure appeared, as if out of thin air, right in front of the immortal. 

* * *

The sight that greeted them was like out of some old wild west movies. The shadow figure that they had seen in dreams and vision was in a face-off with Adam, both seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. 

Peter, Ray, and Blair quickly got into position, forming a triangle that surrounded Adam and the DFD. As soon as the trio started chanting, DFD's attention was immediately on them. 

Methos stumbled out of the triangle as soon as he felt the DFD losing its hold on him. Clearing his head, the immortal eyed the scene taking place in his living room, suddenly realizing that history was about to repeat itself. 

"Shit!" Methos cursed, getting to his feet. 

"What?" Jim asked. 

"You do remember what happened the last time this was done?" 

"The three apprentice were killed by the DFD with the remains of its power," Fraser said, darting a worried look at the trio. 

"How can we stop it?" Skalany asked, anxious to help her partner. 

"We can't." Fraser said, almost in resignation. 

"What do you mean we can't?! I'm not gonna stand here and watch my partner die!" Jim growled, trying to get to Blair, but Methos stopped him. 

"You don't have to." With that, Methos dashed back into his bedroom with Jim hot on his heels. "Damn it, I know I have it here somewhere!" Methos cursed, rummaging through his bedside drawers. "Yes!" he finally produced a cluster of quartz crystals that seemed to glow by itself. 

Dashing back into his living room where the battle was being waged, Methos positioned himself between Peter and Ray, transforming the triangle into a square. 

"What are you doing?" Jim asked. 

"Shut up if you want them to live through this," Methos snapped, not bothering with his Adam Pierson act any longer. 

Holding the crystals in front of him, the immortal closed his eyes and began chanting in a language that hadn't been heard for more than 5,000 years. He could feel the crystal coming alive in his hands, drawing its power from his ancient Quickening and Methos let it. 

* * *

All Peter could hear was the roaring scream of the DFD in his mind and the familiar phrase "You will pay." He was bracing himself for the attack he knew was coming when suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a wide beam of light, crackling with something akin to lightning hit DFD in between its eyes. 

Peter and the rest of group could only stare in awe as the shadow figure literally dissolved before their eyes and within seconds, there was no sign of the DFD. Before Peter could make sense of what was happening, Adam crumbled to the floor with a loud thud, crystals still clutched tightly in his hands. 

* * *

Methos's return to consciousness was greeted by five pairs of eyes. 

"Thank God!" said Skalany, helping him off the ground where he fell. 

"Thanks," Methos muttered, wincing as the dull throb in his head developed into a full-blown migraine. Rubbing his face with his hands, Methos suddenly realised that the crystal was gone. Glancing around almost panicky, he spotted the object under the scrutiny of Ellison. 

"That's an amazing crystal, Dr. Pierson," Fraser said. "May I ask where you managed to find it?" 

"Found it on a dive in a river," Methos replied, making his way towards the detective. "Do you mind?" he asked, and without waiting for a reply, grabbed the crystal from Ellison. 

"And it just happened to have mythical powers," said Peter. 

"Look, whatever it is, it just saved your lives. Now if you don't mind, I have a headache." Ignoring everyone, he walked back into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. 

"Don't leave town, Pierson. We'll need your statement," came Ellison's warning a few minutes later. Then he heard the front door shut as the cops left. "Time to get the hell outta here." The immortal said to himself and began packing, his headache already gone. 

* * *

"That's it? Bring light, 'bang', and the thing's gone?" Simon asked the group of officers in disbelief. All of them were randomly seated in the conference room. 

"Uh, we really aren't that sure what exactly just happened back there ourselves," Ray supplied, on Simon's opposite at each end of the long table. 

"Other than the fact that Adam apparently saved our lives...." Blair shrugged. 

"That he did," said Skalany. "You don't trap a shadow, you banish it with light," she finished cryptically, earning her a glance from Peter that seem to say 'and-where-did-you-came-up-with-that?' "What?! I haven't been hanging around you and your father for nothing you know." She shot Peter a glare. 

"I'd really love to have a look at that crystal though." Blair continued. Jim, you were looking at it, did you see anything?" 

"No. Although, I could've sworn that thing seemed to glow when he first got it out, but when I was examining it, it was just like any other crystal," the Sentinel replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

"I doubt it. The crystal itself must be powerful in order for it to unleash that amount of energy," said Peter who was on Ray's right. 

"I've heard of a legend, well, more of a myth actually, about a crystal called the Methuselah's Stone. It's supposedly so powerful that it'll grant whoever that has it the gift of immortality," said Fraser, standing beside Peter. 

"Whoa! _The_ Methuselah's Stone? I didn't think anyone even believed that it existed!" said Blair. "You're not suggesting that Adam has the Methuselah's Stone are you?" 

"From my knowledge, the stone has always been described as a sphere, a crystal ball if you will. However, what Dr. Pierson had was a cluster, not a sphere, and since the myth of Methuselah's Stone is just a myth, it's highly unlikely that it was the stone." Fraser concluded. 

"Wait a minute. Methuselah's Stone? Immortality? Myths? You're telling me that six supposedly highly trained professionals, who also happened to witness the event, had no idea what happened?" Simon took off his glasses and rubbed his face. 

"Woof!" Dief suggested. 

"Yeah, I agree." Putting his glasses back on, Simon turned his attention back to the bemused group. "How about we all get a good night's rest, then you can question Pierson in the morning and get back to me with a rational explanation that I can present to the Commissioner?" 

The Captain's suggestion was greeted with a chorus of "Yes, sir's." 

* * *

Epilogue: 

"Thank you for saving young Peter." The voiced stopped Methos before he could get into his car, and he turned around to face the petite looking old oriental man. 

"You again." 

"Yes, me." 

Methos could see the amusement in the old man's eyes. 

"I really shouldn't be surprised anymore. When was the last time I saw you? 1914? 15?" 

"1913. The Pak'tai incident." 

"Right. In Siam if I remember correctly. And we're even now that I've saved that young charge of yours and his friends." 

"Indeed we are." 

"Tell me something, do they still call you The Ancient?" Methos asked, his amusement clear. 

"Do you want the title back, _old_ friend? You are, after all, its true owner." 

"Oh no, you can keep it as long as you like." 

"Bloody marvelous!" 

"As for me, I'm getting outta here before they decide to come back to interrogate me. I'll see you around." 

**THE END**  
Love it? Hate it? Lemme know!  
1 neukstier (noun) Dutch  
stupid stud bull Indicates a male with brawn but no brain. From "neuken", meaning "to fuck", and "stier", meaning "bull". A (possibly archaic) derogatory term for a male chauvinist pig. 

2 kak dva pal'tsa obossat' (expr.) Russian (it's) a piece of cake Meaning, of course, that there can hardly be anything easier to do than that. Used as a separate sentence. Has a flavour of disdain and/or boastfulness: 'A eto smozhesh?' (What about this, can you do it?') - 'Kak dva pal'tsa obossat'!' 

* * *

End Ancient Ties by Eugenie Chua:

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